


Once Upon A Rune Stone

by IggyLikesPie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm taking artistic liberties with languages and religions, M/M, Mild Gore, Pagan God Dean, ngl this is really slow to update, pagan god!verse, shhh - Freeform, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-23 06:13:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2537177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IggyLikesPie/pseuds/IggyLikesPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak went to Sweden to research rune stones for his book on mythology and religions, he certainly didn't expect to go back home with a pagan god who wanted to be his friend.</p><p>[[Based off of Diminuel's art and 'pagangoddean' blog on tumblr.]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Summoning Pagan Gods 101

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SillyBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyBlue/gifts).



Gazing down at the half-finished wooden sculpture, Castiel allowed himself a small smile.

  
  
He'd been saving up for the past few years in order to be able to go to east Sweden and study the old runes and stone circles.

  
  
His sister, Anna, had laughed and called him a nerd but Cas was excited to be seeing some of the objects he gave lectures about at the university.

  
  
His plane from Illinois had arrived earlier in the day, greeted by showers and a cool breeze but the blue eyed man hadn't minded; he was finally there and that was all that mattered.

  
  
Castiel had always been interested in theology and ancient history; to some it had been odd that a Christian, like himself, had wanted to study pagan gods but he had simply been fascinated with them for as long as he could remember.

  
  
Sitting down on the hotel's bed, Castiel studied the map that he had brought with him. The Huntæ circles were closest too him, with the largest being that of the Wienscheste family; the oldest family of gods in an exceedingly old religion.

  
  
This faith, in particular, had always fascinated Castiel. Its roots appeared to be Germanic but also linking with Norse, its following seemingly had spread across parts of east Russia, through Finland and to Sweden, relics having also been found in northern France and over the Atlantic in Newfoundland.

  
  
During his own time of doing his degree, he had visited the sites in Newfoundland as well as Finland and had simply known that this was the theology he wanted to focus on for his papers and dissertation; and now the book that he was currently perfecting, this trip being both for work and personal enjoyment.

  
  
Deciding that he would visit the Wienscheste circle first, Castiel folded the map and placed it on the night stand before regarding his small sculpture again.

  
  
The wooden figure was rough at the moment, but he reasoned that it wouldn't take long to perfect. At the moment, it was only a vague shape resembling Deån; god of homes and the hunt, eldest son of Mærie and Djohann Wiescheste. The god's head was covered by the thick hood of his cloak which was also wrapped around his body, his hands hidden by long sleeves and leaving only his face visible. Flicks of hair were barely showing beneath the fur of the hood and his slight smirk was simply an etch on the surface at the moment.

  
  
Castiel considered painting it but chose to decide later, depending on how it went. He wanted to show the earthy colours associated with the god, though; the black of his eyes with green centres that were set into his tanned skin, the deep brown of his cloak and cream of the fur and the sandy, light brown strands of hair. Not to mention the dark tattoos across the bridge of his nose.

  
  
The jet lag had made Castiel's eyes feel heavy but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep yet so he opened one of the books he had brought with him and found the page with the image of Deån on and his title. Picking up the figure again, he began sanding it down and filing it where necessary.

  
  
This went on for a couple more hours before Castiel could feel himself falling asleep where he sat. After quickly changing and putting the old book away, Castiel glanced at the clock before climbing into the bed: 19:00, ah well, it looked like he was having an early night.

  
  
" _Gedvangal druxgongisgrapha_ , Deån." he smiled, patting the small statue on his night stand; testing how the Enochian sounded, even if it was with his mangled pronunciation.

  
  
Castiel put it down to the low light and his sleep-deprived brain, but he swore, as he turned out the light, that the statue's smirk turned into an actual smile.

  
  
~x~x~x~

  
  
The next day was mostly spent sleeping and planning out his next week in the town whilst Thursday, however, was when he finally rented a car and drove out to the circles. It took him an hour and a half to reach them but Cas barely noticed; a small smile placing itself on his face for the entire journey while excitement tugged at his mind.

  
  
The Wiescheste circle was closest to the main road; only a mile walk from the small tourist hut next to the car park. The map then showed two different roots branching off, one went to the Kambeyl circle and the other went to Häreviel which had two other stones placed close to it marked at 'Schinga' and 'Vietzgerald'.

  
  
Each sign along the path was written in a number of languages and Castiel smiled a little at how he could read them all; he wasn't just fluent in dead languages, after all. The route through the trees had been dry, the clouds only pale smudges in the sky that were quickly being hurried along by the wind.

  
  
Along the way, there had been small picnic areas branching off of the trail, families beginning to sit down and eat at them.

  
  
It was just passed noon when Castiel arrived at the Wiescheste circle and, after glancing around him, he realised that he was the only one still around that particular rune site, the voices of a tour group fading as they disappeared between the trees lining the route.

  
  
First things first, Castiel reasoned, he'd place his 'offering' next to Deån's rune stone.

  
  
It didn't take much effort to locate the elder brother's stone: it was one of the largest, to the left of Djohann's while Samuel's was to the right of Mærie's.

  
  
Castiel took his, now finished, carving from his pocket and compared it to the stone before him. The Deån carved into stone looked foreboding, his hood off of his head which was raised high and appeared to be staring down at Cas. In his left hand he appeared to be clutching a dagger whilst his right was curled around a jumble of lines that gave the impression that he was holding fire.

  
  
He then looked at his own carving. Deån appeared... Okay, _'cute'_ wasn't exactly what Cas thought he should use for an old god but that was exactly how Deån looked, with his hands clutched in front of him and his head mostly hidden by the thick fur of his hood.

 

Castiel had ended up not painting the wooden sculpture and - although he knew it could be seen as a silly thing to do - had decided to leave it at Deån's rune.

  
  
The blue eyed man crouched and placed the figure at the base of the stone. "For you, Deån." He murmured, patting the small statue lightly.

  
A sudden clap of thunder made Castiel jump and he almost fell over but froze as he saw a hand beside him reaching for the figure he had just set down.

 

"Huh, it looks good." a voice said from just behind him. Turning slowly, he took in what he was seeing; Deån was holding the figure.

  
  
_Wait_ , Castiel's brain screeched. _What??!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does anyone remember how I said I wasn't going to start anything else until I finished my other stuff?  
> anyone ever get the thing where an idea comes along and slaps you until you write it?  
> yeah?  
> well, both of these things combined meaning that this happened - I am only slightly sorry.
> 
> Diminuel's pagangoddean blog is brilliant, though, and this is what this AU is based off of so a lot of the tales/backstories/descriptions/etc. were written/drawn by them.
> 
> once again, infinitejellybean has been my glorious beta and has encouraged* (*read as 'pretty much forced') be to post this.
> 
> this will also be posting on FF.net, may be posted on LJ in the future.  
> my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi, come say hi!


	2. Light A Fire In My Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, much to Castiel's surprise, Deån isn't a hallucination and is curious about what's changed in the world.

The other man looked up from the wooden statue, his smile freezing as he set eyes on Castiel. "Wait... Cas?" he gasped, as if in disbelief.

 

The man wore a thick, brown cloak with fur lining the front and hood, as Deån was often depicted as wearing. His hair was a light brown and spiked slightly in the middle while his eyes were black with green centres, his bottom lids being lined by green paint. The man had tanned skin with golden disks hanging from his ears, black stripes stretching over his nose and... freckles? 

 

"You have freckles?" Castiel heard himself say, his mouth running ahead before his brain had time to catch up.

 

This... Deån-wannabe or whatever, however, was looking as if he were the happiest man on Earth. 

 

"Castiel, you know I have freckles. Why do you sound so surprised?" he questioned, standing up and offering a hand to Cas to help him up as well. The man's voice was odd; it sounded warm and inviting but the accent seemed as if, somehow, the German language and Texas drawl had had a love child. 

 

Castiel stood up without taking the man's hand and took a few steps away from him. "How do you know my name?" he demanded, trying to enforce some authority into his tone.

 

Seemingly confused, the other man began opening his mouth to say something but stopped. "Do you know who I am?" he asked but it did not sound angry, almost... sad, if anything.

 

"You look like you're dressed as Deån but he's not real." Castiel said cautiously.

 

The other's face fell. He lost his smile and his eyes grew large before he covered it up and smiled again but it seemed false.

 

"Allow me to explain then." he began, placing the statue back beside the stone. "You summoned me here, Castiel, using that statue. I know your name because it was you who summoned me."

 

"'Summoned'? You say it as if-"

 

He nodded. "As if I were a god? As if I were Deån?" he smirked.

 

Castiel turned away and ran his hands over his face, drawing in a shuddering breath. He was dreaming, that _had_ to be the answer! None of this could be real, it was freaking nuts!

 

"Are you okay?" he heard the other man (god?!) ask. When a hand came to rest in his shoulder he spun around and began backing up again.

 

"No no no no." Castiel repeated, waving his arms in front of him. "Keep away from me, okay? You're either completely nuts or I'm dreaming. Just- just stay over there." He was almost in the middle of the circle now, _Deån_ was still standing next to his stone looking forlorn.

 

Rubbing his eyes again, Cas doubled over and placed his elbows in his knees. "Ugghhhh, I have got to be dreaming." he groaned.

 

"Cas-" the other man started but when Castiel looked up to glare at him he closed his mouth quickly. A thought then seemed to cross his face and he scooped up the figure again and held it out to Castiel.

 

"Here, take this with you and summon me again when you reach home." he smiled.

 

Castiel tilted his head in confusion as he took his statue back. "But how would I-"

 

"Summon me again? Simply light a fire in my name."

 

Cas considered this, turning the wooden carving over in his hand. "But... I'm in a hotel room, they wouldn't allow a fire."

 

When no reply came, Castiel looked up to find the circle empty again apart from himself.

 

Well, there went his normal day of being a tourist.

 

~x~x~x~

 

Castiel felt awkward.

 

He was standing in his hotel room with a packet of matches, a metal bowl and the carving.

 

There was no smoke detector in his room, which Castiel was oddly thankful for, and he had cleared a small area on the desk in the room. He placed the statue down and the bowl in front of it, a couple of matches in the dish and one left at the side so he could strike it.

 

Cas opened the old tome he had brought to the page about summonings and scanned the page, mentally translating the dead language on the page. There was a passage about summoning gods by placing an offering at a stone bearing their name and Castiel almost grimaced thinking _Been there, done that ._

 

The next section was summoning using a designated artefact and he tapped that page as he read it, mulling over the incantation. It didn't seem to hard: 'I invoke, conjure and command you, appear onto me before this circle' being recited in Enochian after the fire had been lit.

 

Shrugging, Castiel placed the book to the side and readied himself to have confirmation that he had been hallucinating earlier; there was _no way in Hell_ that this was going to work.

 

Cas lit the match and placed it in the bowl, the others catching fire easily and. beginning to burn. He began reciting the spell, palms open and up as the book had instructed and continued to chant until the fire had burnt out completely.

 

When the last spark faded into the ashes, Castiel lowered his arms. "See, Castiel, just a dr-"

 

"You called?" came a voice from over Cas' shoulder and he really, _really_ didn't want to turn around. Could he be hallucinating _again_?

 

Gritting his teeth, Castiel turned around to find Deån lounging back on the bed, still dressed in his furs and his arms behind his head while a smirk danced along his features.

 

Now Cas did grimace. "Oh God, you are real, aren't you?"

 

"Well, I certainly like to think so." Deån winked before looking around the room (and Castiel looked everywhere but at the god, now was not the time to turn into a freaking blushing 5th grader).

 

"Your home is very small." Deån commented, sitting up and throwing his legs over the side of the bed before removing his coat. Underneath he wore a green tunic tied with a thick, black belt and golden clasp. Around the neck of the tunic was golden material with an intricate pattern woven into into it in black while a black line circled his neck. He wore black trousers beneath the tunic and worn, brown boots with fur at the top of them.

 

Castiel was pretty sure that he started drooling when the god's arms were exposed. Tight black material clung to his muscled arms but still exposed half of his forearms and the black tattoos encircling his tanned wrists.

 

Snapping his eyes away from where the other man was inspecting the light switch, Castiel vaguely thought that, if he hadn't already lost all contact with his mother, she'd have cut him off now. Not only was he gay, but now he was checking out a _pagan god_.

 

He could remember clearly the day he had told her he was gay: he'd just finished college, had enough saved money to live by himself and, if he worked, to carry on studying. She'd shouted and screamed, called him a blasphemour and a heathen and that she never wanted to see him again.

 

His older sister, Anna, had turned her back on their mother after that also, helping him find a place to live and to carry on in education for which he'll forever be grateful.

 

As for their father, he had disappeared when they had been little. Mother had been stricter after he had vanished but she had always been devout to the point that it was scary.

 

Dean broke him from his thoughts by clicking the switch and gasping loudly as the lights came on. "So humans can do magic? Such small fires..." he smiled, seemingly awed, as he looked at the lamp on the bed side table that was now lit up.

 

"Not magic, Deån, it's electricity." Castiel said, sitting down in the chair beside the desk.

 

Deån turned to him with wide eyes. "I've heard of that! Such clever things have been created since I was last here. But still, why is your home so small, Castiel? And why is there no kitchen?"

 

The other man huffed a laugh. "This isn't my house, it's a hotel room. I'm here for a week and then I'm going back to America."

 

Deån came and sat directly in front of him in the bed. "The New World? What's it like?"

 

"Umm..." Castiel seemed a little unnerved by how excited Deån sounded simply by him mentioning America. "Its... Nice? I guess...? I mean, I've never really lived any where else so I can't compare it to anything."

 

"I'll find out for myself then when you summon me when back there." he states simply, propping himself up on his arms as he leaned back whilst his eyes drifted to the statue. "Wait, you are taking my figure back, correct?" he asked, suddenly seeming panicked.

 

Castiel still vaguely thought that he was experiencing some weirdly vivid dream but he felt the need to reassure him anyway. "Um, if you want me to?"

 

Deån smiled again at that. "Of course, I wish to know you better, Castiel." he said. "And what the rest of the world is like now, too." the god added after a beat.

 

Deån stood up again and went to the window, pushed back the curtains and peered outside. It was only just turning five so it was still light out; Castiel figured that the sun wouldn't set for a few more hours given that it was June, anyway.

 

"Can we go outside, Cas?" Deån asked, dark eyes flickering in the reflected lights from below.

 

The other man started a little. "Yeah...? I don't really know if anywhere will be open but, okay? Wait, you'll have to change too; you'll get some really weird looks if you go out dressed like that."

 

Deån tilted his head and seemed to consider this for a moment. After a few seconds he closed his eyes and clasped his hands in front of his chest.

 

"Deån, what are you d-"

 

"Shhh." the god hushed as a bright light began to pulse in his hands, causing Castiel to raise his arm to shield his eyes and turn away.

 

When he looked back Deån was dressed in worn jeans and his tunic had become an open green shirt over the top of a black T-shirt. The tattoos were gone and his earrings had shrunk down into simple, golden studs. Deån opened his eyes, however, to reveal that they hadn't changed. "Better?"

 

"Um, what about your..." Cas gestured to his own eyes and realisation dawned on Deån's face.

 

"Yeah, right, okay..." the god covered his eyes with the palms of his hands and when he pulled them away the black had gone from them.

 

Castiel wasn't a poet but he was pretty sure that he could have written sonnets in fifteen languages about those eyes.

 

The green had remained the same but, after seeing them set against black, they seemed to be considerably more striking. They weren't dark enough to be called emerald; if anything they were more hazel but that didn't stop Cas from wanting to just keep staring into them.

 

 _No, stop it_ , Castiel thought, mentally shaking himself. _If you end up getting an inappropriate, pagan-god-induced, morality-and-religion-questioning boner, I will kill you_ , he threatened himself.

 

"Even better now?" Deån smirked.

 

"Y- Yeah, you look great." Cas assured him. In the back of his mind, he wondered how his trip had ended up so damn weird in such a short space of time.

 

~x~x~x~

 

As it would turn out, Deån had no intention of staying in one place for very long. One moment he was 'ooo'ing at a brass band playing beside the town's lake, then he was exclaiming 'Cas! What is that? Why is it pink and fluffy?' ('Its candy-floss, Deån.') and then it was 'What is a 'vegetarian'?'

 

Following Deån's line of sight, he saw a closed shop across the street hosting a sign saying 'vegetarian and vegan goods' in Swedish.

 

"Its someone who doesn't eat meat. Vegans don't eat anything that comes from animals." Castiel told him absently, looking back out across the lake at the small boats that were beginning to turn on their lights in the dusk; he'd barely noticed how long he had spent outside with Deån.

 

When no other question or excited statement came, Castiel looked over to find Deån staring at him in shock. "What?"

 

"They don't eat meat?" Deån repeated.

 

"Well, yeah. Some people choose to do it, sometimes it's religion, other times it's health reasons." Cas explained, not really understanding why the god was looking at him as if he had grown another head.

 

"But... But if they don't eat meat then... Part of myself is not needed. If there is to be no more hunt then large sections of my power would be lost." Deån looked back towards the shop now, his eyes wide and lips dipping downwards.

 

"Loads of people do still eat meat, Deån," Castiel reassured him. "I know a lot of people who wouldn't want to give up eating meat."

 

"And what about yourself, Castiel?"

 

Cas blushed a little and scuffed his shoe on the pavement. "Contrary to what many people would believe but my favourite food is cheeseburgers and if you took the meat out of that, well... It just wouldn't be the same."

 

When the blue eyed man looked back up, Deån was smiling at him a little before he was distracted by movement over his shoulder and was once again bounding down the street, intent upon discovering everything in one night, Castiel left to run after him: 'Deån! Be carefu- No, wait! Don't climb over that, you'll fall! No, _Deån_!'

 

~x~x~x~

 

By the time the two returned to the hotel room, Deån had discovered that, yes, gravity still works and can result in bruises, the lake is deeper than it looks, the town was larger than the small hamlet he said once stood there and that he had a number of foods that he would like to try.

 

Castiel was expecting himself to suddenly fall into a freak-out that included 'oh God, there is a pagan god right over there and he seems to want to be friends, what even??' but it hadn't come yet. In fact, he'd had a nice night despite the fact that they had done pretty much nothing but walk around, Cas occasionally explaining things to Deån who had listened with rapt attention.

 

If Cas let himself fantasize a little, it had felt almost like a date. He could barely remember the last time he had been on a date. He was pretty sure that it had been with that guy Anna had set him up with. What had his name been again? Chris? Carl? Cas couldn't remember, he could just remember the abysmal attempt at a 'date'; he outwardly cringed at the memory of it, he still couldn't go into that particular Starbucks without getting a few glares from the staff.

 

"Is something wrong, Cas?" Deån asked, noticing the other man's grimace. The god was back in his tunic, the illusion of his modern clothes having fallen away as soon as he had crossed the threshold of the room.

 

"Huh? Oh, nothing just... remembering something unpleasant." Castiel sighed.

 

Deån waved his hand in his direction as he sat down on the bed. "Let go of the memory; if it causes you grief then why dwell on it?"

 

Castiel raised an eyebrow at him. "Says you? They could have renamed you the god of 'angst and troubling backstories' by what the lore says about you."

 

Deån seemed to consider this for a moment, appearing slightly taken aback. Cas was about to apologise when the god broke into a grin and huffed out a laugh. "I suppose they could, I shouldn't be a hypocrite but you should let it go. Use me as a bad example."

 

"You said it not me." Castiel managed to get out before giving in to the yawn that had been building in his chest.

 

Deån was pulling on his cloak when Cas looked back at him. "You seem tired, I should probably take my leave."

 

Castiel felt awkward. He didn't want Deån to go but he couldn't ask him to say so it left something heavy over him.

 

"Are you going back to the rune circles?" the god asked after a small hesitation, seemingly fussing with the clasp of his belt.

 

"I was planning on it; I'm researching your faith particularly for my book and those circles are the largest concerning your religion."

 

Deån smiled up at him after that. "Then I shall meet you there tomorrow morning. Goodnight, Cas." He nodded and seemingly vanished in a shower of sparks and soot.

 

Castiel sat staring at where Deån had been standing for a few minutes.

 

If this was a dream - and Cas was pinching himself every other minute just to make sure - then he kind of didn't want to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day?  
> that hasn't happened in a very long time... but, this fic keeps writing itself which is good for this story but not for A) any of my others or B) the coursework I should actually be doing. oops.
> 
> as usual, thank you to my beta, infinitejellybean, for pushing me to publish this (seriously, nothing would ever be posted without them, like wow) and to ALL OF YOU GUYS!! for actually bothering to read this! (=^-ω-^=)
> 
> this will be going up on my FF.net under the same name, LJ posting may take some time.  
> my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi, come say hi!


	3. Stories of Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deån becomes a little nostalgic about pretty much everything and Cas is more than willing to listen.

It was barely nine o'clock when Castiel passed the tourist hut.

 

Not that he was excited to see Deån again or anything. Nope.

 

The rain from the night before had left the ground beneath Castiel's feet sodden and heavy, the mud quickly clumping and sticking to his shoes as he followed the path to the Wiescheste circle.

 

The sky was overcast and dark, signalling that more rain would come later but Cas didn't mind; he liked the rain, it seemed to blot out everything else and he found it calming.

 

Due to the weather, there were fewer people along the track and in the area in general, or that's why Castiel believed they weren't there, anyway.

 

The blue eyed man had brought Deån's figure along with him in his bag but knew that he wouldn't be able to do anything yet when he saw a group of four people standing inside the circle, talking far too quickly in a language Castiel couldn't recognise for him to understand.

 

He was about to head back towards a lunch area and hope they would leave soon when a, now all- too-familiar, voice spoke from behind him.

 

"Heya, Cas." Deån murmured, walking around the nearest rune stone to stand next to Castiel. He was dressed in his modern clothes again, the once-fur coat now being shown as worn, brown leather.

 

Castiel gave him a slightly startled look. "But I didn't summon you." he stated.

 

Deån was looking over at the others in the circle as he replied. "Now that I've been summoned here this season, when the person who did the summoning returns I can willingly travel here to meet them."

 

"So you don't get around much?"

 

The god chuckled a little as he leant back against the stone. "On the contrary, Cas, I was quite the traveller back in the day. What about you?"

 

"Never really had the time, unless it was for educational purposes. I think I've seen more rune stones than some people have ants." Castiel sighed, leaning back against the cold rock also.

 

Deån turned to look at him then, green eyes still so jarring when surrounded by white. "I'm sure you'll travel someday, Castiel, I can just tell."

 

The rest of the day passed easily, with Deån recounting stories about the person on each rune stone; the pair following the path to some of the other circles as well.

 

Castiel knew that he wouldn't be able to use them for his book unless they were written down some where but he didn't want to ask Deån to stop when he seemed so excited to recount them.

 

Castiel's favourite had been when Deån was talking about his brother.

 

Deån's love and compassion for his brother was, quite literally, legendary. Large sections of the lore and folk tales spoke of how, after Djohann had set out of his quest to rescue Mærie from the clutches of Azazel, Deån and Samuel had been left in the world to fend for themselves resulting in them being incredibly close.

 

"... So I was sitting in the village, tending the communal fire," Deån was saying, grinning as he told the story. "When I heard this massive _thwunk_ so, of course, I zap straight over and what do I find? Sam, the stupid giant, has managed to knock over a tree 'cause he was leaning on it, trying to get his foot out from the well it was stuck in!" the god laughed, eyes lighting up as he looked up at the stone carving of his brother. "Course, he's managed to get his height power under control now but he's still tall; one of the Dæmon Lords even calls him 'moose'."

 

"I think I remember him," Castiel said thoughtfully. "'Krowrey' or something?"

 

Deån nodded, suddenly seeming serious. "Krowley, yes. He is not a Lord to be in league with. He is... cunning and treacherous in ways that other Dæmons could only wish to be. As the current ruler of the Hell plane and as he is now bonded to Abaddon, he is also so much more powerful."

 

"But, I thought Azazel ran the Hell plane."

 

"That was a long time ago, Cas. Things change even when nothing is written down in a millennia." Deån sighed. "Many of us fear The End is coming, Djohann is nearing the Ninth Circle and Azazel has dropped off the map. Even the Messengers appear wary, these days."

 

Castiel knew the lore of this religion's apocalypse - _Könctectt_ was how it was written, resembling both Swedish and Slovenian and translating as 'The End' - but hearing a god speak of it was something else.

 

The Messengers seemed to be like Angels in Catholic teachings, some sharing names with them too; Michæl, Raphæl, Gabræl, and Lücife  were the four Higher Messengers, each tasked with a corner of the globe to help communicate with the others - whether that be by sending letters, words, gifts or helping the travellers along their way - as well as protect while the gods were away from that area. If they were wary of something, then it truly was something to be feared.

 

The stories said that when Djohann reached the Ninth Circle of Hell, Mærie would be freed from her captivity and Azazel would be destroyed. Without its leader, the Hell plane would descend into anarchy with Dæmons roaming the Earth until Huntæ and Messenger could banish them all forever, bringing in the Age of Peace.

 

Once it had just been that; just lore and stories, but now, seeing a god who feared it may actually come to pass, it made it that much more tangible.

 

Despite what he was hearing, seeing, Castiel still believed in God but if the world were to end in one faith, would that impact others? Every apocalypse happening at the same time, almost like a domino effect? Was that even possible? Cas didn't want to know.

 

Deån sighed, tipping his head back for a moment before looking back at the stone with the carving of his brother on it.

 

"All that aside, though, it's a pretty good likeness of him. Granted, his hair is a bit longer now but they managed to get his stupid face right." Deån smirked.

 

Castiel glanced over to Deån's stone. "Mm, but I think they missed your ego off of yours." When he looked back, the god was pouting.

 

"I'm watching you." he grumbled, giving Cas a small glare but it wasn't that effective, given that he was still pouting.

 

~x~x~x~

 

By the end of the day, Castiel had been filled in with tales that had never even graced any tome ever written. However, Deån had also corrected some of his translations of books he had read and helped improve his spoken Enochian.

 

Deån had smothered a laugh when Cas had tried reading a sheet he had copied from a book back home.

 

"No no no, Cas; soften up your 'nach' sound a little, it's not a 'ch', it's more like a breathy 'h'. Like this _**nach**_ _-graphourhmed_." The god was trying to teach Castiel how to say 'hello' properly.

 

" _Nachgraphaourmed_ ". Cas repeated.

 

"You're adding an extra 'ah', Cas; nobody speaks like that any more. Think of it as... if someone were to talk like Shakespeare to you, that's sort of how adding that 'ah' sounds." Deån explained.

 

Castiel nodded and then frowned. "Shakespeare? But you-"

 

"We never completely disappear, Cas." the god smiled. "Sure, I've lost a number of my powers along with so many others, but I don't just _stop_. I know who Shakespeare is, and I like listening to _Metallica_ , and that _Titanic_ was a sucky movie that this one particular Messenger hates."

 

"I never saw _Titanic_." Castiel mused.

 

"Well, you're not missing much. People call it a 'classic' but it ain't got nothing on _Star Wars_. Now they're good films."

 

"I've never seen those either." Cas murmured and the god, although he would probably deny it, squeaked.

 

"How have you never seen _Star Wars_?? If I've seen it, and I live in another realm, then how have you not?" he almost shouted.

 

"I don't know, I just... never did? I read a lot. I think Anna saw them." Classical literature had always appealed to Castiel more than overcrowded cinemas.

 

"I can't believe it; I even made Sam and Djess watch those films." Deån said, stunned and shook his head.

 

Deciding to move on from his knowledge of old sci-fi films, or lack there of, Castiel asked about the goddess Deån had mentioned. "What's Djess like?"

 

"Hm? Oh, Djess?" Deån looked back over to him and seemed to get a far away look in his eye. "Djess is awesome, she's clever and her flat cakes with chocolate are simply to _die_ for. Her and Sam are pretty inseparable and they can be quite mischievous when they want to, I have to tread carefully sometimes." the god told him, grinning to himself. "We met under... odd circumstances but I believe that she's settled in well within our realm."

 

Castiel could faintly remember the story of how Djess became a goddess, it wasn't one he had studied in depth but he had had to read it whilst doing his 'families and relationships' area of his studies. Frowning slightly, he tried to remember all of the tale. "Djess had been... killed, was it, and you took pity on her and brought her back?"

 

"Yes and no; her village had sacrificed her, trying to invoke my power. Either they didn't realise that blood sacrifices aren't my thing or they thought spilt blood would make me stronger or something." Deån sighed, tipping his head back. "I brought her back as soon as I realised what had gone on and I brought a little wrath down on those who had killed her but not much; just a mini drought, an immensely cold winter, that kinda stuff. Djess opted to stay with us, and her and Sammy? Well, they're just like peas in a pod, them two."

 

"What about you? Have you ever been a 'pea' with somebody else?" Castiel asked, forming the marks around the word. In the tales he had read, Deån had travelled a lot, taking bed mates often with either gender but there were a few stories that appeared half finished, or had had a name burnt from rune stones or the pages of an old book.

 

Deån's lips twitched at Cas' phrasing but he stared at the ground, face glum. "Along time ago, yes. They were... Awesome, and powerful, and so smart. I miss them immensely but they were taken from me." Anger seemed to creep into Deån's voice now. "Not long after Christianity began to spread did Krowley take over Hell, the war settled after a century of fighting to result in Abaddon becoming his Bonded, leaving a shaky truce between their factions.

 

There were... rumours of a Messenger who would destroy the Dæmon Lord and so, he managed to catch us by surprise, stripped the Messenger and their closest sibling of their Duties and cast them into the mortal realm. He burnt their names from our entire history before binding our tongues with old magick, making it so we can't even speak their names." Deån brushed a hand over his face, screwing his eyes shut as he did so.

 

"I saw the whole thing and could do nothing as my beloved screamed for him to stop. Krowley didn't simply take their powers, he toyed with them first, like it was some sick game. And I- I could do nothing. Now the Hell plane is more unreachable than ever, the hellhounds are becoming more active and I still haven't made him pay." the god growled, his eyes narrowing and reverting back to the black that they originally were.

 

Castiel was stunned into silence for a few seconds; other stories he had read were more gruesome, their descriptions making him feel sick just from the memory, but to have Deån sitting there, next to him, and reliving it all made it horrific in ways the other tales could never be.

 

Cas smiled gently at Deån and lay his hand on the other man's arm. "If they were cast into this realm, and not destroyed, then there's always the chance of finding them."

 

The god looked up at him then, eyes wide and almost vulnerable. "Yes, I suppose there is." he smiled.

 

The blue eyed man would never admit it, but he almost didn't want Deån to find them. It was selfish and he knew it; he'd never acknowledge that he'd thought it because if he did, then he'd have to acknowledge the thoughts and feelings that were beginning to play jump rope with his heartstrings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well howdy doodie, I have an update to share!
> 
> not much to say about this chapter other than an apology that the chapters for this don't seem to be as long as chapters for other stuff I write.  
> also, just a quick note, the Enochian 'sounds' used are adapted from the alphabet created by John Dee and Edward Kelley while names and other sounds use mainly German and Swedish pronunciations (umlauts and accents especially).
> 
> once again, this has been beta'd by the truly brilliant infinitejellybean; they can get me over any block!  
> some of my own plot did work it's way into here, but Sam's story is based off of an image on the blog.
> 
> THANKS TO ALL OF YOU FOR READING, YOU KNOW YOU ALL MAKE MY DAY!! ♥(✿ฺ´∀`✿ฺ)ﾉ
> 
> also posting on FF.net under the same name [[LJ posting in the future, possibly]].  
> my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi! come say hi!


	4. Selfies? More Like 'UST Situations'!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's last day in Sweden.
> 
> [[This chapter kind of seems like filler: it's not long, mainly fluff. Don't expect much from it.]]

Before he knew it, it was the day before Castiel's flight was due to leave back for Illinois.

 

He wouldn't say he had 'wasted' his week at the rune stones with Deån as he had researched about the religion, just in a less orthodox way than he had expected. After all, Anna may think he was a 'nerd' but, Castiel would not swap talking to Deån for going through dusty, old books at the library.

 

Deciding that he had collected enough notes, Castiel took his camera in his bag along with his notepad; deciding to take a few pictures of the stones and their engravings, possibly of the images of the gods etched into them as well.

 

Deån was waiting for him at the Wiescheste circle when he arrived, hands in his pockets and a grin lighting his face when he looked up and saw Cas walking towards him.

 

"Hello, Deån." he greeted.

 

"Heya, Cas. Not too tired from obsessing over those stories, are you?" the god asked, a small smirk on his face: he had told Castiel the day before of when he had first been invited to an Olympian party and come away from it with an Amazonian ally and a daughter, Ermen (or 'Emma'); goddess of lost souls.

 

Castiel levelled the other man with a small glare. "I get a sufficient amount of sleep, Deån. Three cups of coffee also helps."

 

"Not a morning person then?" Deån asked as Cas began removing his camera from his bag.

 

"Not particularly. That is why I'm thankful that most of the lectures I give are during afternoon sessions." Castiel told him whilst turning on the silver camera, its 'ding' resounding through the morning air as it came alive.

 

Deån was staring at the camera with a confused look on his face.

 

"Its a camera, Deån, you can use it to take still pictures, and videos if you don't mind the quality being too bad."

 

The god's face lit up in a smile. "It is incredibly odd to hear of something and then to see it in front of you." he said, peering at the camera closely.

 

Castiel arched an eyebrow. "You're telling me."

 

Deån looked up at him and blinked before blushing lightly and standing back up to his full height. "Heh, yes I suppose you already understand that."

 

Cas flicked the flash off and lined up the carvings on one of the stones in the sight before snapping the picture. "So how come," he started. "That you know about films and modern music and things and yet you get fascinated by electricity and my camera, like you've never seen it before."

 

"Well, most things I haven't seen, at least not in person, so many things are fascinating to me. As for how I know about films and music, Messengers can travel much more easily through the realms and they bring things back with them: Balth brought back _Titanic_ and ranted all the way through it, Zeke introduced me to _AC/DC_ , Gabe has all these new... _candies_ that he refuses to share, just stuff like that." Deån explained as Castiel continued to take pictures of the stories etched into rock.

 

However, as he moved onto Djohann's stone, he frowned slightly. "I don't remember Messengers by those names."

 

"Yeah, I don't really know what their names would be in your language now but they don't even use their own original names any more. Many of their aspects were adopted into other faiths and so they became one with 'Angels' or something. They use those names now, it's interchangeable but kinda confusing." the god was looking over his shoulder at the small screen as he spoke, his breath grazing Cas' ear. "Gabriel still goes by something akin to his original name, does the name _'Loki'_ ring a bell?"

 

"The Norse god of mischief?"

 

"Mmhmm, one and the same and he doesn't like to let us forget it. Especially Sam; they're pretty good friends really but his sense of humour is... well, it kinda sucks if you're on the receiving end." Deån laughed and, oh God, Castiel thought that _he_ had personal space problems! This was just distracting!

 

"I was named after an Angel; coming from a religious family, so was my sister." Cas mused, moving to the next stone, Deån following closely.

 

Deån hummed. "Christian, right? Castiel: Angel of Thursday and November, a Seraph - a _warrior_ \- that sound correct?"

 

Castiel nodded. "And my sister's name is Anael, or simply Anna."

 

"Jewish, rather than Christian; an Angel of joy but yet another Seraphim." Deån nodded.

 

"Were there any Messengers who took our names?" Cas asked out of curiosity.

 

Deån wasn't in his eyesight when he answered, but Castiel could hear a dip in his voice and vaguely wondered what had happened to cause such a response. "There were, I was close to them a long time ago but... I have not seen either of them in a long while."

 

"Tell them 'hello' from me if you see them." Castiel said as he turned back towards the other man.

 

A small smile tugged at Deån's mouth. "I'll make sure to do that, Cas." He seemed to hesitate for a moment before gesturing towards the camera. "May I see that?"

 

"The camera? Sure." Castiel passed it over and then had to throw his arm over his face as Deån pointed it at him. "Deån, please don't."

 

"But I thought you took pictures of other people with cameras as well, or are there different kinds of cameras for that?" Deån's confused look showed as he, thankfully, lowered the camera.

 

"No, it's just- I'm not really a picture person; not really photogenic and it makes me feel slightly uncomfortable." Cas tried to explain and the god nodded once.

 

"Then may I take a picture of myself?"

 

The blue eyed man levelled him with a deadpan stare. "You want to take a selfie?"

 

"There's a different term for a photo if it is of myself?"

 

"Yeah, I don't really know where it started but there is now."

 

"Huh." was all Deån said before he was suddenly behind Castiel, the camera in front of both of them.

 

Cas tried to protest but the god quickly took a picture and skipped away from the other man, a large grin forming on his face.

 

Castiel glared and held out his hand. "Deån, give me the camera."

 

Deån turned the camera around and he could see himself and the god on the display; he looked slightly confused, but mostly horrified and was staring into the camera with wide eyes (so round it was almost amusing. _Almost._ ) while Deån all but had his head on Cas' shoulder, a lazy grin taking up residence on his features as he held the camera out in front of them.

 

"Oh, but Cas, you look so cute all surprised." Deån smirked over at him, holding the camera close to his chest.

 

Castiel felt his face flush and he took a step closer. "Deån." he tried to say in warning but he didn't believe it had much effect on an old god.

 

"Cas." Deån responded, still playful.

 

"Give me the camera." Cas said slowly.

 

"Make me." Deån grinned back, shaping each syllable carefully.

 

Castiel could think of a lot of things he could do to make the god shut up but- wait, when did they get this close?? Castiel wondered, eyes going and wide and he was sure he would have to be the same colour as a tomato by now.

 

They were barely inches from each other, Cas could feel Deån's breath hitting his cheek and he would probably have been able to count every single freckles across the god's tanned skin.

 

Both of them seemed to realise their proximity at the same time and all but jumped back.

 

Castiel risked a glance over at Deån and saw that his ears were tinged pink but there was no way he had been thinking the same things as Cas, right? He couldn't possibly have been thinking of some of them because did dildos even exist when Deån had last been on Earth frequently?

 

The god held out the camera whilst rubbing the back of his neck. "You shouldn't delete it, Cas. It's a good picture. Or selfie. Or something."

 

The blue eyed man took the camera and looked at the picture still on the display. He'd had worse taken, he supposed. "I'll try not to hate it to-"

 

Cas cut off when Deån's head suddenly shot up, eyes returning to their usual colouring. The god spoke after a few moments but his voice was filled with urgency. "Castiel, I must take my leave; Ermen and Samuel are waiting for me; apparently Øliestair is leading an attack. I shall see you soon, I hope." Deån nodded to him once before disappearing and Castiel was thankful that the circle was empty apart from himself.

 

Deån had sounded serious about the attack; he'd try and find something on Øliestair when back home to see who, or what, it was the gods were facing.

 

However, Castiel also felt something crushing inside, especially when he looked at the camera's display. He couldn't fall for Deån, he simply couldn't. Not to mention that he was a _god_ but also for the whole 'now-mortal lover' thing he had mentioned; Castiel simply couldn't set himself up for heartbreak.

 

"Keep it together." he muttered to himself, pocketing the camera. "Now is not the time to turn into a brooding poet."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this seems like an interlude, really. I'm pretty sure that I just wanted to right sexual tension and happy fluff. if you're here for plot, I'm so so sorry.  
> [[but hey! look! two chapters in one day!!]]
> 
> beta'd, once again, by infinitejellybean who I fear may someday die because of all the fluff I send them...  
> Diminuel's blog is, as ever, completely perfect and you should really check it out if you haven't already.
> 
> I THANK ALL OF YOU FOR PUTTING UP WITH WHAT I WRITE, YOU'RE ALL AMAZING! ◦°˚\\(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦
> 
> also posting on FF.net under the same name [[LJ posting in the future, possibly]].  
> my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi! come say hi!


	5. Home Sweet Home

After about twelve hours on a plane, Castiel was willing to simply curl up in his bed and sleep forever.  

 

However, he was instead standing in front of his sister's house waiting for her to open the door so he could pick up his cat. 

 

The door flew open and he was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug, after only registering a flare of red hair. 

  

"Cassie!" Anna trilled, pulling away and holding him in front of her. "Tell. Me. _Everything_." she insisted, pulling him insides where Dimitri also greeted him, winding his grey body around his ankles. 

  

Castiel yawned, bending down to scratch behind Dimitri's ears. "Can't it wait? I came straight here from the airport." 

 

Dimitri nuzzled his hand as he petted him, purring, while Castiel looked up to find Anna pouting down at him. 

 

"But it's all so fresh in your memory right now! Tell me about the mystical stones and the little town near by and if you had any foreign romances!" she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at him. 

 

Castiel felt his face flush. "Anna!" he scolded, looking away as she started laughing. 

 

"Fine, you can get away this time but I expect you over this weekend to tell me all about it."  

  

"You know I will." Cas said, picking up Dimitri as he stood. 

  

"Dont forget it either; jet lag won't be an excuse for long. Now come on, help me grab all of your pampered cat's stuff." 

 

~x~x~x~ 

  

It was only nine AM by the time Castiel reached home, Dimitri sitting in the passenger seat asleep. 

  

Castiel took up his suitcase and backpack - with Dimitri just inside, his head sticking out of the top - up to his apartment after parking in his familiar space in the underground car park. 

  

The man sighed as he entered the hall way, immediately going to the living room to his right and putting the bags down. His cat instantly jumped out and curled up on the arm of the sofa, closing his amber eyes as soon as he was comfy. 

 

"You're so lazy." Cas sighed but Dimitri didn't even respond. 

  

Unpacking barely took half an hour, having only taken what he absolutely needed meant that it didn't take long to tidy it all away. The last thing to come out of his backpack was Deån's figure which he placed on the mantle piece. 

 

Castiel felt the urge to try summoning the god now but when he had left it had seemed urgent and Castiel didn't know how long it would take to be sorted out, whatever it was. 

 

Deciding to leave it another day or so, Cas changed quickly into an old T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants before sinking onto his sofa and flicking on the TV, Dimitri choosing to lay across his lap in a not-so-subtle hint to be stroked. 

 

When the shows began to blur together, Castiel knew it was time to sleep. 

 

He'd watched... something but he hadn't really taken it in, mind already deciding it wanted sleep and wanted it then. 

 

"Come on, Dimmi, I think it's time for bed." Cas said, attempting to move the cat who simply rolled over instead of moving off. "Please, Dimmi, I'm tired." Castiel blinked, trying to keep his eyes open in order to continue coaxing Dimitri to move. 

 

With a small yowl, he finally jumped from Castiel's lap and onto the floor and then followed the blue eyed man into the bedroom and preceded to claim one of the cushions by flopping back down in a grey ball of fluff again. 

 

"I don't know why you're so tired, you only went to the other side of town." Cas managed to grumble, climbing into the bed himself. 

 

Dimitri licked Castiel's nose once he had settled and he screwed up his face a little at the damp feel. "Thanks." was the last thing Castiel can remember saying before he fell asleep. 

 

~x~x~x~ 

  

Castiel woke to a yowling noise and padded feet prodding at his face. 

 

"Nhh, ung." Cas tried to speak but his cat wasn't cooperating. Dimitri stopped prodding him once Cas' eyes were open but continued to yowl. "Dimitri, what is it? Couldn't it wait until-" Cas glanced at his alarm clock: 7:04 AM "- At least a little later?" 

 

When Dimitri prodded his nose again Castiel resigned himself to the fate that he was just going to have to get up.

 

"This had better be good." Cas grumbled, not caring enough to pull on his discarded sweatpants and simply walking towards the kitchen in a t-shirt and his boxers. 

 

However, when Dimitri continued on into the living room, the blue eyed man frowned a little before following him. 

 

Dimitri stopped in front of the mantle piece and then began to yowl up at Deån's statue. 

 

"It's just a figure, Dimmi. You know I carve occasionally." When the incessant cries continued, Castiel went to pick up the figurine to show his cat, to try and get him to understand that it wasn't going to hurt him. When he put his hands on it, however, he dropped it again, hissing as pain burnt through his hand as the statue clattered to the floor where Dimitri backed away from it, hissing. 

 

"That's not right." Cas murmured before pulling off his t-shirt and using it as a cloth in which to pick up the statue. _Wood isn't meant to heat like this_ , Castiel thought as he carried the object into the kitchen, Dimitri following behind him. 

  

Deciding it would be best to try and summon Deån, to find out if something was wrong, Castiel quickly closed the kitchen's sliding doors and opened the windows above the counters so as not to trigger the fire alarm before grabbing a bowl and the packet of matches he kept in his drawer in case of power cuts. 

 

The blue eyed man placed a couple of matches in the bowl before lighting another match and setting the fire. The chant rolled off of his tongue easily, eyes falling shut and his palms raised to the ceiling. 

 

The fire burnt quickly, sputtering into embers after the sixth round of Enochian. 

 

Castiel opened his eyes to find Deån leaning heavily back against one of the work counters and Cas gasped. 

  

There was an open gash across Deån's left cheek, thick blood oozing down his face. There were scorch marks across the god's clothing and black soot darkening his skin. Other ominous dark, crimson patches littered his clothing, as well as his skin, and a bloodied knife was clutched in his right hand. 

 

"Shit, Deån, what happened?" Castiel gasped, pulling the god into a chair at the table and crouching before him so as to look at the gash on his cheek. 

 

"Øliestair was ready for us, we barely got away. Sammy and Em are fine; just needed to see- just needed to get away." Deån sounded drained, his eye lids drooping over his black eyes. Castiel gently smoothed his thumb over the gash and Deån hissed. 

 

"Sorry." Cas murmured before fetching the first aid kit from under the sink. 

 

"'S fine. It would've healed by now but some of the troops had... odd weapons. The damage doesn't heal as it normally does and they slipped straight through my armour; they were like Messenger blades but singed black."  

 

Deån gritted his teeth as Cas began cleaning the cut. "Armour?" he asked as he worked; all he could really see was the large coat, lined with thick fur, and the normal thick boots. 

 

"Underneath my cloak, but it's all but destroyed; after so many attacks I'm not surprised." 

 

"You've only been gone a little longer than a day." The cut didn't seem deep enough to require stitches and Castiel thought he could see it slowly closing up as he watched. 

 

"Time works differently in other realms; to me it has been almost two weeks." Dimitri chose this moment to trot over, across the table, and butt his head at Deån's hand where it lay on the table. 

 

Deån smiled a little. "You have a cat." 

 

"Yes, this is Dimitri, prince of the house." 

 

"It's nice to meet you, Prince Dimitri." the god said, slowly petting the cat's grey fur. "My assigned guardians are cats, you know." 

 

"I thought that was just wild bobcats and lynx and such?" Castiel frowned, watching as Dimitri began to purr under the attention. 

 

"Originally, yes, but now it includes house cats too. As they became a part of life and the home, they became a part of me. At first I was a little allergic but it seems that I have adapted." Deån's eyes closed for a little too long after he had finished, his head lolling forward before he snapped back up straight again. 

 

"You're tired, Deån, would you like me to make up the spare bed so you can sleep?" 

 

"No, I sh-" 

 

Castiel arched his eyebrows and the god caved, nodding once. "If you would not mind, of course. It is incredibly kind of you to offer." 

 

"You said you need to just be away so it's no problem, I'm sure I've got some sweatpants that won't be too tight you can borrow as well." Cas told him as he stood up. It was only as he went to leave the room that he noticed his t-shirt was still on the table meaning... 

 

The blue eyed man looked down and noticed he'd been walking around in only his fraying pair of boxers. He felt his cheeks colour as he hastily pulled on his shirt and all but ran from the room. 

 

Castiel quickly made the spare bed up with sheets from the cupboard down the hall and then grabbed a pair of loose sweatpants and a T-shirt and placed them on the bed. When he returned to the kitchen, Deån seemed to be half asleep but still petting Dimitri slowly, the cat rolling his head under the god's hand and purring. 

 

"Deån?" he asked quietly, trying not to make the god jump but he still started a little at the noise, blinking drooping eyes up at him. "It's all made up, pants are on the end of the bed. It's the room second on the right." 

 

Deån gave him a small smile, standing up from where he had been sitting (and Dimitri huffed at the loss of attention). "Thank you, Castiel." he murmured, bowing his head a little.  

 

As he was about to leave, the god stopped and worried his bottom lip between his teeth a little. "Before I rest, may I ask you a question?" 

 

He carried on when Cas nodded, still seeming hesitant. "How did you get the marks on your back?" 

 

 _Shit!_  Castiel's brain screamed; he'd forgotten the scars on his back and Deån must have seen them as he had forgotten to put his top back on. Cas wasn't ashamed of his birth marks, it's just that they drew far too much attention for his liking, meanning he got some odd questions.  

 

"They're birth marks, that's all. In fact, my sister has two almost identical on her own back."  

 

It had confused their parents to no end; one child three years younger than the other being born with nearly identical jaggered, red lines running parallel either side of their spine, making it look as if someone had taken a knife and cut down their back. 

 

Most trouble concerning them had been at school, for him and for Anna. Children could be cruel and would joke or hit him on his back as sometimes the scar-like tissue could be sore.  

 

Anna had broken a boy in her grade's nose when he tried to hit in her on the back one day. Nobody had tried it again. 

 

Castiel was older than Anna had been when he finally snapped, except he seemed to snap with more force. One of his tormentors for many years cornered him in a hallway and left said hallway with a broken arm and a fractured jaw. Nobody had bothered Castiel again after that. 

 

"Birth marks..." Deån hummed but it soon bled into a yawn and Castiel ushered him down the corridor, colouring faintly at the god's sleepy insistence that Castiel was 'awesome for not minding him crashing there'. 

 

"Sleep well, Deån." Castiel told him quietly and closed the door, Dimitri pawing at it a little. "Come on, Dimmi, let him sleep." 

 

Cas made a quick breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs, of which Dimitri had a small portion along with a couple of pieces of salmon. 

 

Castiel lounged on the sofa as he ate, flipping through various channels, not really paying attention to the morning TV shows he passed over: people who could be cheery at this time of the morning _and_  appear on television just couldn't be trusted, or so Castiel thought anyway. 

 

Eventually, he settled on a music channel that, according to the only print on the screen besides the station's name, was having a 'day of piano concertos'. Looking over at the most recent essays (on how pagan mythology and traditions still affect life today), Castiel sighed; he had to get them marked sometime. Vaguely, he thought maybe he should have done them before he went away. 

  

He pulled the stack of papers towards him and grabbed the green pen he constantly kept on the side table to the left of the sofa. 

 

Dimitri hissed slightly at the papers as Cas uncapped the pen, curling up next to Castiel but eyeing the essays wearily. 

  

"Yes, I know, I don't like them either but they have to be marked." he sighed, scratching lightly behind the cat's ears. 

 

Time passed steadily as he marked each essay; correcting spellings of gods' names, circling references that he knew weren't real and changing dates when somebody had simply forgotten or guessed the era. At least everyone had actually tried this time. 

 

Two hours in and he was almost done, Castiel was unbelievably thankful that his classes weren't too big. 

 

He reached for the third from last essay when there was a knock on his door. The blue-eyed man looked up, Dimitri's ears twitched as well from where he was doing his best imitation of a fluffy ball next to Castiel's side. 

 

Wondering who he knew who would actually be awake at this time, Castiel made his way to his front door and peered through the peep hole. When he realised who it was, he stood back and swung the door open. 

 

"Meg; no hangover this morning?" he teased. 

 

"Yeah, you're real funny, Clarence; I just wanted to see how my favourite nerd had been on his holiday." she smiled, patting his cheek as she walked into the apartment like she lived there herself. 

 

Dimitri sidled up and curled around Meg's ankles until she bent down to scratch behind his ears. "Yes, I missed my favourite kitty too." she cooed. 

 

"I swear everyone I know prefers my cat to me." Castiel said, moving towards the kitchen. "Coffee?" 

 

Meg smiled at him, flicking her dark hair over her shoulder. "You know me too well, Clarence. And everyone likes your cat because he's like you, only fluffier." 

 

"I'm not like a cat." the blue eyed man grumbled, flicking on the coffee machine and grabbing two mugs from the cupboard. 

 

"Are too," Meg poked his side as she leaned against the table. "You hate mornings, you take up the entirety of any surface you sleep on, and you purr when people run their hands through your hair." 

 

Castiel had to give Meg the last one; he really did like having his hair petted. 

 

When he gave no answer other than a shrug and poured out the coffee, Meg laughed. "I know you too well as well, I suppose." 

 

"That does tend to be what happens when you've been friends with someone for years." Castiel deadpanned and handed over her coffee. 

 

Meg looked at him over the rim of her mug, eyes wide with fake innocence and shining like the many piercings she had in her ears. "I'm honoured; you think of me as a friend." 

 

"That can change easily."  

 

Meg laughed again before taking a large drink from her mug. The back and forth was familiar to Castiel and he smiled lightly, taking a sip from his mug.  

 

Meg and he had been friend since the first year of college where they had met at a freshers party, one of the only college parties Cas had ever been to. There'd been copious amounts of illegal alcohol, bone-jarring music, and skimpily-dressed students; of which Meg had been one. 

 

She'd flirted with Castiel most of the night, which he hadn't realised until she had tried to pull him into another room - so as to 'get to know each other better' - at which point Castiel had simply blurted 'I would but I'm gay'. Meg had stared at him, blinked a little and then tapped his cheek saying 'go get yourself some ass then' before pushing him back into the throng of drunk, student dancers with a wink.

 

Castiel had left not long after that - no matter how much he drank, he still found overly-loud parties in tiny dorms with too many students repugnant. However, Meg had then turned out to be in his literature class and, somewhere along the way, they had struck up a friendship. They were an odd mix, but it worked. 

 

"So, how was Sweden?" Meg asked, the mug nestled in her hands. 

 

"It was... different than what I was expecting." 

 

"Different good or different bad?" 

 

Cas shrugged. "Just... different." 

 

Meg groaned. "Come on, Cassie; details, I need details!" 

 

"You sound an awful lot like my sister." Castiel told her, eyes narrowed slightly. 

 

Before Meg could answer, another voice rang out from down the hall that almost made the professor drop his mug. 

 

"Cas? Are you awake?" 

 

 _Crap! **Crap!**_ How could he have forgotten that Deån - pagan god, just back from a battle, _Deån_ \- was just down the hall?! 

 

Meg glanced over at him, eyebrows raised. "Something you forgot to tell me, Cas?" she asked. 

 

"I- I ju- Stay here for a second, okay?" Castiel bumbled, quickly placing his mug on the counter and basically running into the hall to be greeted by Deån leaning out of the guest bedroom. 

 

The god's hair was in disarray to say the least, he'd taken the golden disks out of his ears, and was rubbing his eyes blearily. " _Gal'ndgon_ , Cas." Deån wished him 'day' as he stopped in font of him. 

 

As Cas stood before the god his hands were shaking a little and his teeth were on edge. "Deån, I- Meg- and she- and your eyes- I didn't-" he spoke hurriedly but in a coarse whisper. 

 

Deån blinked at him a few times before putting a hand on his shoulder, cutting off his ramblings. "Cas, what's wrong?" he asked, sounding concerned. 

 

Castiel sighed before carrying on in the same quiet tone. "My friend, Meg, is in the kitchen and she's going to ask questions and I've messed up. As in, _big time_." 

 

"Does she know about me at all?" Castiel shook his head. "Then we'll figure something out." A moment later and Deån's tattoos had faded and his eyes were white instead of black. "Let's go." he winked and began towards the kitchen, giving Cas the perfect opportunity to admire how good Deån looked in a thin T-shirt and sweatpants that were both slightly too small but clingy in all the right ways.

 

Castiel entered the kitchen just after Deån to find the god and Meg staring at each other as if in shock. Deån's lip was curling slightly while Meg looked both apprehensive and ready to bolt at any moment. 

 

"Meg, this is Deån, another theology professor I met in Sweden. We had the same flight back so I offered him my guest bedroom save him having to pay for a hotel. Deån, this is my friend Meg Masters." Castiel introduced them, looking between them. 

 

" _Dey-on_ , huh? Not a common name, I bet." Meg asked lightly but her voice sounded closed off. 

 

"It's pronounced _Dey-'n_ , but it's not common, no." Deån told her, his own voice sounding sharp and almost icy. 

 

Castiel was about to try and alleviate some of the awkwardness that had, suddenly, descended upon the room when he heard his phone begin to trill from his bedroom. He excused himself before going to answer it. 

 

Castiel glanced at the screen before answering, registering that it simply read _**Unknown**_  before putting it to his ear. "Hello?" 

 

Only faint static met his ears before the professor hung up with a frown. A crash from the direction of the kitchen brought his attention back to the on going, potentially very bad, situation that was occurring in said room. 

 

Castiel re-entered the room to find Deån picking up pieces of a broken mug while Meg was placing Dimitri onto the floor. "What happened?" 

 

"Um, Dim, here, managed to knock your mug off the side. Who was on the phone?" Meg told him, standing back up and straightening her outfit as if it might have wrinkled somehow. 

 

Castiel shrugged, taking the pieces from Deån and throwing them in the bin. "It was just static; probably just a cold call." 

  

"Damn, those things annoy me." she muttered before leaning in and quickly placing a kiss on his cheek. "I'd better be off; we'll meet for coffee or something and talk about your trip, yeah?" 

  

Castiel was a bit taken aback; Meg had practically only just arrived, after all. Was it because Deån was there? Did she think something was going on?  

  

"Yes. Yes, of course, I'll ring you later to set when?" 

 

"Sounds like a plan, Clarence. I'll speak to you later." she called as she closed the door behind her, leaving Castiel blinking and bemused, in his kitchen, with a god

 

"I don't know if I like her." Deån stated suddenly. 

 

Castiel turned around, eyes wide in shock. "Whyever not? You barely spoke for five minutes." 

  

The god shook his head, looking down to the floor. "I can't describe it, I simply feel that I can't trust her." 

  

"If she was a real threat, I'd know by now; I've known her since college." Castiel told him, gesturing towards the coffee machine and Deån nodded his consent to having some. "Sure, she looks scary and talks tough and has broken bones and hearts aplenty but she is nice, Deån; she's a fluffy animal that just tries to act big to scare away other animals." 

 

The god hummed as the tattoos faded back onto his face, around his neck, and over his wrists. 

 

"Anyway," Castiel asked, passing his guest a mug of coffee. "Are you feeling better?" 

 

Deån bowed his head a little and accepted the cup with a small smile. "I do feel better, yes. Most of my injuries have healed and I think I slept more last night than I have in a millennia." 

 

"How are the others? Your brother and your daughter?" the blue eyed man asked him, pouring some water into a bowl and putting it on the floor for Dimitri. 

 

Deån took a large drink from his mug, holding it in both hands. "Sam and Emma are fine; they're both incredibly skilled fighters, I'm sure they could have taken the army without my help. As for the rest of my troops, they all got away but we suffered heavily. No one had died when I took roll call but there had been serious injuries amongst many." 

 

"It's better than dying, I suppose." There was a small pause before Cas broke the silence again. "The members of your army, are they all gods or...?" he trailed off. 

 

Deån bit his lip, seeming to consider his answer for a moment. "A number of them are, yes. Depending on who we're fighting, there may all so be gods of other religions beside us if the battle affects them. Then there are a number of demi gods, like my son-" 

 

"Bendjamin?" Castiel interjected. He remembered the story of Deån's son only vaguely: Bendjamin's mother had been infertile and had prayed to Deån, as he was a god of fertility, that she may be able to bare a child for herself and her husband. 

 

Deån laughed. "I only have one son, Cas; but, yes, it was Ben. The rest of the army is often made up of those who pledged themselves in life and death to the gods; they reside in our realm and live good... afterlives, I suppose." 

 

They lapsed onto silence while they both finished their drinks before Deån spoke again. "What about you, Cas? Who are those close to you?" 

 

Castiel ducked his head a little. "To quote Meg, I am quite 'closeted'. I have my sister who lives on the other side of town, then there is Meg, of course, and a few other professors from the university but that is about it." 

 

"No parents? Or your own 'pea'?" Deån asked, smiling a little at the small inside joke his words shared. 

 

Castiel shrugged, placing his mug in the sink. "My dad just... up and left when I was small and I don't have any contact with my mother; she doesn't approve of my, ah, 'lifestyle'. As for a 'pea', well, no. I have no pea."  

 

"Well, if I am to find mine then you will find yours." Deån smiled at him but it didn't seem to reach his eyes. 

 

Deån placed his mug on the side as he pushed off from where he had been leaning on the counter. "I feel I've wasted enough of your time, Castiel," he bowed his head lowly in Cas' direction. "I'll take my leave and let you continue your day." 

 

"I'm only marking essays; it's not something I'd say I'm looking forward to." 

 

Deån seemed to consider what he was about to say for a moment before a hopeful light lit up his eyes. "Then maybe I could drop in again? Make sure you're not working too hard?" 

 

Castiel felt the heat of a blush start under his skin. "You don't have to, Deån; I mean, my life isn't exciting or-" 

 

"Trust me, Cas; it'd be my pleasure." the god smiled before disappearing, only a small shower of soot and sparks to show that he had ever been there at all. 

 

~x~x~x~ 

 

Castiel drove to Anna's in the afternoon and she greeted him with a wide smile and a one armed hug, her other hand holding her phone to her ear. 

 

"Well that's just too bad," she was saying, closing the door behind her brother. "If we don't sell that particular one then he can't buy it then and there; he'll have to wait for a customisation order to go through and- yeah- yeah! Exactly! Anyway, I'll have to go; my brother's just arrived. Yep... Yep, see you Monday." Anna hung up and pushed her phone into her jeans pocket. 

 

"Cassie!" she grinned and pulled him in for a proper hug this time, squeezing so hard that Castiel half expected to hear his ribs to crack. 

 

"Hello, Anna." he wheezed and she drew away, grinning. 

 

"Underneath that gruff voice and those starched shirts, you're still my little bro." 

 

"Hey, I'm taller than you now." Castiel pointed out as they moved towards the living room. 

 

Anna bumped her shoulder into his. "Eh, you're still little to me. Still a nerd too." she stuck out her tongue as she leaned over the half wall that separated the living room and dining room, plucking a chocolate muffin off the table before sitting next to Cas on the sofa. 

 

Castiel rolled his eyes but he could feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

 

"You want one?" his sister asks, tipping the cake towards him. 

 

"No, thank you; unlike you, I'm not completely dependent upon chocolate cake." 

 

"Hey!" Anna squeaked. "I'm not addicted to chocolate cake, shush your mouth." After scrunching her nose up a little, as if she was going to insult Cas or throw some of the cake at him but, instead, Anna sighed and leaned back into the couch. "So, give me details, Cassie! How was it?" 

 

Castiel settled in and considered his answer for a moment. "It was not as exciting as you seem to expect that it was. I saw some stones, took some pictures, wrote some notes," Castiel shrugged. "The usual." 

 

"Meg said you had a foreign romance." Anna smirked. 

 

Castiel blanched, his shoulders going slightly tense. "What?" 

 

Anna pulled part of the muffin away between her thumb and index finger. "Meg called; said there was some strange, foreign professor wandering around your apartment when she visited you." 

 

Cas knew that Meg and Anna were somewhat friends but he hadn't expected Meg to tell his sister about Deån... okay, tell a lie, some part of him hadn't just expected it but actually knew she would. _Half of the city probably knows by now_ , he thought grumpily. 

 

Anna popped the cake into her mouth and chewed slowly. "So spill." 

 

Castiel could feel heat burning under his cheeks and he faught against the blush; _it's just Deån you're talking about,_  he reminded himself quickly. "I'll tell you what I told Meg; his name is Deån, he's a professor from Sweden, and he stayed in my _guest room_ -" he emphasized. "- to save him from having to pay for a hotel as he caught the same flight back as me before going to Chicago to give a lecture." 

 

"Wow, Cas; an opportunity drops in your lap and you let it sleep in your guest room. I'm disappointed." Anna deadpanned and shook her head slightly. 

 

"Anna!" and Castiel would deny until his death that his voice squeaked. "We're just... friends, colleagues, that's honestly it!" 

 

His sister raised her eyebrows. "Uh huh." 

 

Cas rolled his eyes, only just stopping himself from throwing his hands in the air. "Believe what you want; I know the truth." _And it is soooooo different from anything you could ever imagine_ , he added mentally. 

 

"We're just teasing, Cas. And we both know you never get laid." 

 

"Anna!" Cas exclaimed again, hitting his sister with a cushion from the sofa which only made her laugh harder. 

 

Despite it all, however, Castiel found himself grinning and laughing along. 

 

The afternoon passed with ease; Castiel showed Anna the pictures of the rune stones (and she gave him a pointed look, which he ignored, when he flicked over the picture of himself and Deån) while Anna updated him on how things were going with the candle shop and florist she ran. 

 

"We have spare room, as well, since we bought the bigger store so I'm thinking of opening a cafe, or is that too much?" she asked. 

 

"Would there be chocolate cake?" 

 

"Of course!" she grinned. 

 

"Then I think you'll be able to pull it off." Castiel reassured her. 

 

It was six in the evening by the time Castiel left, Anna squeezing him again before he did and telling him to 'drop by' for the opening of the cafe. Cas glared when she also told him to 'bring his tanned and mysterious new boyfriend'. 

 

~x~x~x~ 

 

The next day, Castiel spent preparing for returning to his classes; sorting his lesson plans, catching up with TAs, and calling Madison, the college's secretary, to catch up with any messages he may have missed. 

 

"It'll be good to have you back, Cas." Madison told him, a small smile evident in her voice just before she hung up. 

 

Castiel wasn't a social person, and he was fine with that, but it was at least a little nice to feel as if he had been missed, by staff and/or students. 

 

That evening, Castiel sunk onto his sofa with a mug of a new kind of hot chocolate that Anna insisted he try ('because, Cas! It's practically _heavenly_!') and Dimitri curled up next to him. 

 

He flipped on the TV and let whatever mind-numbing show that happened to be on simply wash over him. It was something about a family with far more money than sense, in Castiel's opinion. He felt like he recognised them but, at the same time, he didn't really care. 

 

Castiel's thoughts eventually drifted to Deån and how he was doing back in his own realm. Had there been another battle? Was his family okay? He considered summoning the god but what if he was just pestering him? 

 

 _Wait..._  Castiel thought; when had this all become so normal for him?? 

 

"What's my life turned into, Dim?" Cas asked the cat, getting only a soft 'miow' as a reply. "Yes, my thoughts exactly." 

 

"Castiel? Are you speaking to your cat?" 

 

Cas jumped up from his seat - Dimitri also jumped off, with a yowl, and padded over to the armchair - and turned to the doorway, body automatically turning to the side in anticipation of a fight with- 

 

"Deån?!" The tension tumbled out of Castiel, his shoulders and arms lowering. 

 

The god offered a sheepish smile as he lowered his hands that had been in front of him in a placating gesture. "Heya, Cas; I'm deeply sorry if I scared you." 

 

Castiel huffed, sitting back down on the couch and looking over his shoulder at the god. "Deeply sorry doesn't cure a heart attack." 

 

"You forgive me though, right Cas?" he grinned, shrugging off his jacket and laying it over the sofa's arm. 

 

Castiel made a show of rolling his eyes but he could feel his cheeks burn at the sight of that smile. "I can try." he sighed dramatically. 

 

"That's all I can ask." Deån replied solemnly, hand over his heart but his smirk and the twinkle in his dark eyes gave him away. 

 

Cas chuckled as Deån sat beside him. "How are you, Deån?" 

 

The god was squinting at the TV, a confused look on his face. "I'm good; I've had a series of war meetings over the past few days. It has been... exerting." 

 

"Anything I can do to help?"  

 

Deån shook his head, an almost sad smile pulling at his mouth. "I don't believe so, unless you know how to ambush a Dæmon fort?" 

 

"I'm afraid not." 

 

Deån sighed. "Then I will simply have to persevere." His head lolled onto the back of the couch and he closed his eyes. "I still can't believe you're putting up with me, Cas; I just randomly show up and you don't even seem to mind." he commented. 

 

Castiel laughed a little. "I think I'm still in shock from finding out that you're real." 

 

Deån hmm'd. "Yes, I'd be pretty shocked to find out I'm real too." 

 

Cas tilted his head, brows furrowed. "Did that actually make any kind of sense?" 

 

The god laughed; a full rich sound that reminded Castiel of warm fires and freshly baked bread. "No, I don't think it did." 

 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few minutes whilst Dimitri trotted over and settled on the empty seat in the middle of the sofa between them. 

 

Deån opened his eyes and looked out of the window to Castiel's left. "It's going dark here, I suppose I should start my rounds." It was said more to himself than anyone else but Castiel still heard it. 

 

"Rounds?" 

 

Deån's dark eyes turned to him as if he had forgotten he was there. "Yes, at the end of each day I visit each person who still believes. They never see me, of course, but I make sure they're okay, that their family is healthy, that their home is safe. It's one of the few things I can do for them now." 

 

Castiel hesitated for a moment. "Can-" he cleared his throat. "Can I come with you?"

 

Deån's eyes widened, his eyebrows rising towards his hairline.

 

Cas' hands raised in a placating gesture. "I mean, if it's okay, it's just- I just-"

 

"If you wish to then of course." Deån spoke over him, a smile appearing gradually on his face.

 

"I can?" Castiel asked, voice dumbstruck to his own ears as his hands dropped.

 

"Of course, Cas, I don't see why not."

 

"Won't they see me or hear me or something, I mean, I'm not a god so..." the blue eyed man trailed off but the god was already standing and pulling on his cloak; the deep tanned material swishing until it came to rest around Deån's shoulders.

 

"You'll be fine, I'm sure. Just stay close and we won't face any problems." Deån assured him, stretching out a hand, an eyebrow arched. "Shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, I update really infrequently, don't I?  
> I'm so sorry.
> 
> anyway, as you can see, I have been writing and I hope this update of 6100 words makes up for how long it took - lots of fluff planned for next chapter, yipee!
> 
> as always, this has been beta'd by the glorious infinitejellybean who is like a little cheerleader on my shoulder, cheering me on.  
> thanks to you guys too, for reading! I wouldn't be anywhere without you! 
> 
> this is a fic based on Diminuel's pagangoddean blog on tumblr; I really suggest looking at it, it's amazing.
> 
> this is also being posted on FF.net under the same name  
> my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi, come say hi!


	6. Fables With True Roots

Castiel took Deån's hand slightly hesitantly, allowing the god to pull him to his feet and then wrap his arm around his waist. "Hold on." he said before the world around Castiel began to change.

 

His lungs seemed to constrict and he was both falling apart, molecule by molecule, but at the same time having his skin pushed inwards, as if to fuse with his bones. He tried to gasp but his lungs didn't work, his mouth was somewhere behind him in the vacuum but was also sown together in the place it always had been. The colours blurred together into an endless stream that shot past Castiel, through him, and carried him through the emptiness, a dull drone blocking out his hearing.

 

The one constant was Deån's arm wrapped securely around his waist that he thought was going to disintegrate soon.

 

The journey lasted a blink of an eye but Castiel still heaved in a breath when they landed, as if he had been drowning for years.

 

"Yes, it's very uncomfortable. I'm sorry, I perhaps should have warned you." Deån told him, holding the other man up as he coughed, tears stinging his eyes.

 

"Mm hmm." Castiel managed to force out, before standing up, Deån's arm moving to grip his elbow instead of his waist.

 

"Don't let go; they'll see you, hear you, chase you out of the house, the usual." the god told him, turning to face the room where they had landed.

 

Cas gave his companion a wide-eyed look before turning as well, taking in the room for the first time. "Where are we?"

 

The room was decorated normally enough; cream walls with pale, wooden doors leading into the hallway, another was closed while a pale arch lead through to the kitchen which glowed an ethereal white in the moonlight coming through the windows. The carpet was a deep red that looked like old blood in the darkness. To Castiel's right was a marbled fire place with a mirror above it while in front of them was a glass dining table surround by thatch chairs in matching colours to the doors.

 

"This is the home of Kate Milligan and always my first stop. As to where we are, welcome to exotic Windom, Minnesota."

 

"Why is this always your first stop?"

 

"Because Kate Milligan is the mother of my half brother."

 

Castiel's brow pulled together. "Half brother? But you don't have a half brother."

 

"Correction: I didn't, not until... uh, late last century, anyway. From what I know, she had an abusive husband and she prayed to my dad to help her out and he gave her great strength so she could fend him off except, well, I think she must have used an incorrect rune or something because she also ended up pregnant with a demi god; Adam, my half brother." Deån explained as a light was flicked in in the hall and a fairly lanky young man came into view.

 

" _Deån_?" he asked. "What're you doing here?"

 

Castiel turned to the god. "He can see us?"

 

Deån nodded. "Adam, I was only making sure-"

 

"If you're spying on me I'll-"

 

"I just want to make sure you're okay-"

 

"We're fine and you just-"

 

"You're family so I worry-"

 

"And who is that?" the blond man - Adam - finally noticed Castiel and he gestured towards him.

 

"Adam, this is Cas. Cas this is, my brother-"

 

" _Half brother_." Adam growled. 

 

"- _Half brother_ , Adam."

 

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Castiel told him sincerely and Adam nodded once in response before turning back to Deån.

 

"Is there any real reason you're here or is this just one of them creepy older brother things?"

 

Deån sighed but it sounded as if this was something he got a lot from Adam. "I'm just making sure you're alright. There's some... stuff happening at the moment and I worry a little, that's all."

 

Adam visibly tensed. "What d'you mean by 'stuff'? Should I get mom? Do I need to come with y-"

 

Deån held up his hand. "It's nothing, Adam, just be sure to contact me if anything odd happens, no matter how small. If something serious does come to pass, I will let you know but until then, I trust you to remain safe." the god told him before bowing his head, a gesture that Adam returned.

 

"Night, I guess." Adam said, raising his hand in a small wave before Deån and Castiel were being pulled back through the claustrophobic oblivion.

 

The world cemented around them into another standard looking dining room, another fireplace stood close by, but this time it appeared to be early morning and the family of five eating at the dining table was talking in Finnish.

 

"This is the Pollari family," Deån told him and, despite knowing that they couldn't be heard, Castiel found it unsettling that nobody looked up at the sound of the god's voice. "And we are just outside of Kannus, Finland."

 

After the Pollaris was the Luoma family, also in Finland but this time in Juankoski.

 

Then it was the Belrose family in Orly, France.

 

Then to the Aristovs in Barnaul, Russia.

 

Deån took Castiel then to Lehrte, Germany to check on the Hirsch family.

 

Next was Rouvas, Greece to see the Mellas'.

 

Then to the Yoxall family of Budleigh Salerton, England.

 

On and on they jumped, Castiel visiting more countries than he had ever heard of Deån's religion reaching.

 

Deån often gave Castiel some background of the family; whether they had been worshiping the religion for generations or if their faith was fairly recent.

 

Before long, each place, name, and language blurred into just constant colours and sounds as Castiel's eyes began to droop closed.

 

"I can finish up my rounds on my own if you need rest." the god told him, nudging his shoulder lightly.

 

Cas rubbed his eyes with the Palm of his hands and nodded. "Please, that'd be-" A yawn. "- Fantastic."

 

Deån nodded before they were rushing through the too-tight vacuum back to Castiel's apartment. The polished wooden floor of his living room connected with Castiel's feet and he would have stumbled if Deån hadn't been there to steady him.

 

Once Cas was standing upright again by himself, Deån bowed his head slightly. "I bid you goodnight then, Castiel. Next time, I'll be sure to give you some warning before I drop by."

 

Castiel nodded and, before his brain could catch up with what was happening, he pulled Deån into a hug, resting his chin on the fur collar of the god's coat.

 

Castiel froze, arms wrapped around Deån, once he realised what he had done. Before he could pull away, however, Deån hesitantly hugged him back, arms squeezing him close before slacking a little.

 

The blue eyed man pulled back, feeling his cheeks heating up. "S- sorry, I just- I normally tend to hug friends goodbye and-"

 

"No worries, Cas, but... do you really think of us as friends?" Deån looked almost wistful as he asked, still standing quite close to the other man.

 

Castiel wished he could go back and hit himself in the face. Why had he blurted that? As if a _god_  would have time for him and his clinginess. "Um, I don't know? Maybe, I suppose?"

 

A small smile graced Deån's features but it seemed to light up his entire face. "I think of us as friends, too, Castiel."

 

The silence that hung between them after that was less awkward and more... charged.

 

Deån appeared as if he were to do something before he caught himself at the last minute before leaning back slightly, a smile fitting easily onto his face. " _G_ _'dv'ngal drux'n'sgraph'_ , Castiel." he finally said, wishing Cas 'goodnight' in smoother Enochian than the professor could ever wish to speak.

 

" _Druxgongisgraph_ _'._ " Cas tried to return the sentiment but knew it hadn't been quite as smooth as he wished by how the god's smile twitched wider. Deån bowed again before vanishing in his customary shower of sparks.

 

A voice in the back of Castiel's head (that sounded suspiciously like Meg) was telling him he was whipped but Cas ignored it.

 

Pfft, 'whipped', yeah right. He was just... being a good friend. Yeah, he was going to go with that.

 

As he climbed into bed not long after, he found himself wondering, once again, when his life had become so weird.

 

~ x~x~ x~

 

By lunchtime the next day, Castiel felt as if he had never left.

 

His morning started with the usual team meeting at nine o'clock after which Castiel had about an hour or so before his first small group sessions started. They carried on until one when he had an hour and a half for lunch (quite generous, he knew, and was beyond grateful for it) and then a two hour lecture in the afternoon.

 

It was a similar schedule for the rest of his days with varying classes and subjects and meetings until Castiel worked on autopilot because thinking too much would lead him to doing the wrong thing.

 

As it was, he was debating whether another cup of coffee was a wise decision when his office phone rang.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Hey, Cas," Madison chirped down the line. "Just letting you know the book you wanted came into the library today; I don't know if it's even been logged yet but I thought you'd like to know."

 

"Thank you for telling me, I'll go and see if I can have a look at it yet."

 

Madison laughed. "Eager; it's your first day back, calm down." she told him, smile evident in her voice before she hung up.

 

Castiel started on his way towards the campus library, thankful that the archaic tome had arrived so quickly and knew that most of it was due to Madison. Cas liked the woman who essentially ran the university; not even a fly could enter the building without her finding out. If he ever needed a book, Madison was always the first person he went to and she always managed to get it, no matter how obscure.

 

The library was flooded by students, as it tended to be at lunch, and Castiel dodged around them (getting a few nodded heads and 'Professor Novak's as he went) as he made his way to the desk.

 

The library itself was fairly standard as libraries went with high ceilings and large windows that showed the college grounds beyond. Pillars stood across from the windows going up to the ceiling and exposing the other floors of the library to the light of the windows. The floor and desks were all oaken in colour and reflected light in an almost sunset-like glow.

 

Castiel nodded in greeting to the librarian as he approached, her dark eyes narrowing behind her glasses. She was exactly as the professor remembered; hair the colour of dust and scraped into a bun, face contorted as if she were eating a lemon, and long, skeletal fingers tapping at the keyboard on the desk or tracing down books on the inventory.

 

"Hello, Constance."

 

"Professor Novak, nice to see you back." her thin lips pulled into a smile that Cas worried would tear her paper-like skin.

 

"It feels good to be back. Anyway, I was wondering if Madison had sent the book I'd order-"

 

Constance held out a key card before he finished his sentence. "You'll be in room three. I hope you understand, but we can't have such old tomes out of the controlled area."

 

Castiel nodded as he took the key card. "Yes, of course."

 

He went through the door behind the desk and down the steps to the controlled area where many of the original copies of the older books were kept.

 

The third room opened with a _beep_  when he scanned the card revealing a white and grey room with two desks and a row of shelves on the right. Castiel took two blue gloves from the dispenser to the left of the door and slid them on with practiced ease before finding his book among the other bound copies on the shelves. The books were sorted by period and then by name meaning that it didn't take too long for the professor to find the particular book he was there for.

 

He placed the thick, red tome on the desk across from the shelves carefully, the dark binding and yellowed pages standing out starkly against the cold steel of the desk which it lay upon.

 

Settling into his chair, Cas undid the black, leather clasp holding the volume's pages together and opened it to the beginning.

 

Fine Enochian scratches as well as Old Nordic runes decorated the first page proclaiming; _'This is the volume of the gods and has been transcribed for both otherworldly and mortal eyes. Blessed thanks be unto the Generous.'_

 

Each page continued like this with half being in Enochian and the other in Runes but telling the same story. The first few 'books' of the volume were the standard stories of the early life of Deån and Samuel as was common of the religion's books. It also spoke of Djohann and Mærie and how the world was brought into being but the force of destruction was brought with it.

 

_'For the forces of life and death must balance in the world: they are our light and dark, our day and night, and to forget is to Fall.'_

 

The story of 'Azazel's Passing' and how, to restore balance, Djohann left for the Hell plane, leaving a young Deån to care for his brother as well as take upon the role of head of the religion; manifesting as a fertility god to ensure the survival of their followers and their lands.

 

The chapters after than were what had drawn Castiel's attention to the book, however, as they depicted 'Samuel's Search', the 'Lost Years', and the 'Wild Years'. Although he isn't have time to read the stories in full, Castiel scanned through them.

 

The first of three was the tale of when Samuel had left the Wienscheste Parthenon and even the Huntæ realm completely in order to discover what type of deity he was. The passages Castiel scanned showed a journey through multiple realms, included the human one, before knowledge and justice became Samuel's chosen area.

 

The second chapter gave the story of Samuel when a Dæmon named Rubine fooled him into believing that blood sacrifices made him stronger and that he could bring his mother back by himself. Due to Azazel's blood having been fed to the god when he was small, the sacrifices lead to his power being drained until he was almost pulled into the Hell plane himself.

 

Here things began to get... odd. Parts of the book was now burnt beyond being able to be read, some pages seemingly completely ripped out leading to a, presumably, large time gap between Deån and an unnamed Messenger helping Samuel out of the Rings and the next tale.

 

The next few chapters were even more badly damaged than the last, with most of the story being obscured by scorch marks and, what Castiel thought was (but really hoped was not), blood scattered through the pages.

 

What was readable, showed Deån having commited some form of self sacrifice that had lead to his insanity. The clear passages painted a picture of the god as being bloodthirsty and ruthless; burning countries and villages at will, allowing lands and people go without food, and causing wars between families and kingdoms.

 

Once again, pages were ripped out meaning that the conclusion of the tale was also gone. However, on one of the last pages, was a hastily scrawled message only in Runes; the lines shaky and almost intelligible due to smudges in parts.

 

  
_'_ _Whoever is reading this, time is almost over and I can only hope that the other Chroniclers have fled. I fear this book shall be my last, as shall this day. With my last hour I pray that Deån may succeed in his mission and that this siege shall end swiftly.'_

 

Castiel re-read the message half a dozen times, trying to remember if it was from a tale or if this Chronicler had added a personal note because of the threat real danger. Looking at the state of the rest of the book, Castiel guessed it was the latter otherwise it was from a story he had never read. 

 

And what was Deån's 'mission'? Were all stories written in the religion true? Had Deån really destroyed countries in the past?

 

The book had only brought about more questions about the religion rather than offering a greater insight into it's history, as Castiel had hoped.

 

The questions were still in Castiel's head (no, he was _not_  scared of Deån, nor was he picturing the person he knew 'laughing at the heart in his hands, the blood cooling on his fingers as the mortal's body cooled at his feet', as the thick volume had put it) when a hand landed on his shoulder causing him to spin, his heart rate rocketing. (He would also deny the strangled scream that left his mouth.)

 

A short man with tidy brown hair, dressed in an all-black suit, smirked down at him, his dark eyes twinkling. "I'm sorry if I scared you." he said, taking his hand off of Castiel's shoulder and holding it out to shake, which Castiel did hesitantly, heart still pounding.

 

"No, no, you didn't scare me." Castiel assured him, taking a deep breath.

 

"Just thought I should introduce myself, similar departments after all, we might be seeing more of each other." he told the other man, his English accent clipping each word sharply, as he pulled up the other chair. "Name's Fergus McLeod; I'm the new medieval professor."

 

Castiel vaguely remembered a comment in one of their department meetings about having a spot to fill and who was meant to be filling it. "Yes, you're from, um, the University of Winchester in England, right?"

 

Fergus nodded. "Apparently my Medieval World course is just so good that they wanted it here too."

 

The blue eyed man gave a small nod as silence settled over the pair, one that didn't feel so comfortable to Castiel. The new professor was staring at him and, Cas had been told many times that he had trouble with staring but, he didn't like the look in the other professor's eyes. It looked as if McLeod was sizing him up; and not the 'I'm checking you out' sizing someone up, this was the 'I want to kebab you and roast you' kind of sizing up that Castiel had only ever seen in horrible police mugshots.

 

Castiel checked his watch just to have an excuse to look away from the other man's stare only to realise he had ten minutes until he had to be back in his room. "I've, uh, got to go," he said, hurriedly, as he closed the book and placed it, carefully, back in its place on the sterile shelf. "I'll see you around, probably." He pulled off the gloves and threw them in the small bin, not bothering to wonder why Fergus hadn't moved from his seat but, instead, was merely looking at Castiel over his shoulder.

 

"I'm sure we will." Fergus smirked, something about it causing the hair on Cas' neck to stand on end as he left the room with a small wave and a sigh.

 

He gave himself a moment to contemplate that maybe the stories had maybe him a little jumpy and paranoid before he shook his mind of them and began to make his way upstairs.

 

  
_He's just another professor_ , Castiel thought to himself as he walked. _You need to have another cup of coffee and calm down._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the University of Winchester does actually offer a 'History and the Medieval World' course.
> 
> I hit a bit of a block with this one but I got there in the end; much thanks to infinitejellybean for beta-ing and cheering me on.
> 
> thank you to diminuel for creating this AU (and not taking offence at how much I'm veering from the 'canon' of the art blog).
> 
> my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi, come say hi!


	7. Druxmædor

Three months after his return from Sweden and Castiel was still shocked whenever Deån happened to spark into existence in his apartment.

 

Although he had yet to broach the topics he had read about in the tome with the god, he was finding that he was enjoying Deån's company more with each visit. Dimitri apparently agreed as he had begun to favour the god more than anyone else. Traitor.

 

Meg and Anna were also still bearing down on him, slipping in comments like 'so, any plans of visiting Sweden again', 'heard anything from Deån lately', and 'have you gotten laid recently' (the last one courtesy of Meg). 

 

Castiel sighed just thinking about how they cared far too much about his personal, romantic, and sex lives.

 

Currently, he was crouched down looking for a particular book because, last time he checked, Elena Häreviel had been the goddess of travellers and not her daughter but he wanted to give the student a proper reference so that they could go and read the passages again. Freshman always thought they could blag history courses.

 

"Looking for anything in particular?" 

 

Castiel lurched forward in shock and hit his head on the shelf in front of him.

 

"Hello, Deån," Castiel grumbled, rubbing his head as he resumed his search. "Do you deliberately  _try_ to cause me some kind of pain when you show up."

 

"Only emotional, I assure you." Deån bantered back, crouching next to him after taking off his fur coat.

 

"Well then, you succeed each time."

 

Deån laughed and nudged Cas' shoulder. "I love you too." he grinned and Castiel shook his head in faux exasperation. "So, what is it you're looking for?"

 

"I have a book here somewhere," Castiel told him as his fingers traced along the spines of the many books squished onto the dark wood bookcase, past ones about the godly tiers (which explained how the world came into existence in the second tier but life was now in the third tier) and ones about the geography and timescale of the  _Druxinian r_ eligion. "About Elena, goddess of travellers, and I can't seem to find it."

 

Deån hmm'd, watching as Castiel searched. "Odd how your books have kept the older versions of our names."

 

Castiel frowned. "Have I said something incorrectly?"

 

"No, no, it's just that 'Elena' now goes by 'Ellen' just as I am often now 'Dean',"

 

"Should- Should I call you that instead?" Cas asked as he pulled out a book, checked its contents, and sighed before sliding it back into the shelf.

 

"I do not mind so much, but Ellen claims her original name makes her sound old."

 

The professor huffed a laugh. "Not old at all, only dating back to- what? 30 BC?"

 

"Something like that, yeah."

 

Castiel's brain stopped for a moment, realising just how old Deån was. "You look good for your age."

 

"You cheeky shit." Deån glared but it was ruined by his grin.

 

Castiel turned to smile innocently at the god before returning to his search. "Aha! I knew it was on this shelf somewhere." he muttered to himself as he pulled out the right book.

 

Deån looked over his shoulder as he checked the contents and then flipped to the page he needed.

 

"So why do you need to look up Ellen anyway?"

 

"Because my students don't pay attention." Castiel all but growled as he grabbed the paper that had been handed to him from where it lay next to the bookcase a couple of feet away next to the living room window, he then pulled the red pen from behind his right ear, tore the cap off with his teeth, and began to scribble across the third paragraph from the end. He corrected spellings, crossed out incorrect passages, and scribbled in references.

 

The god watched on as he changed parts of the essay. "Your fascination with correcting even the smallest of details has always intrigued me." he mused.

 

Cas let the cap drop from his mouth onto the floor before speaking, still writing as he went. "Every detail is important, no matter how small," he told Deån as he finished his last correction. "And 'always'? Deån, you've only known me a few months."

 

The god looked away, out of the window as Castiel glanced up at him. "Time is different in my realm; shortening and stretching depending on what is needed, it merely feels longer."

 

"And here I was thinking that you thought that being with me made time drag." Castiel smirked, putting his reference book back.

 

Deån turned back to him sharply. "I would never even think such a thing."

 

"I was kidding, Deån," Cas told the other man as he stood and stretched before holding out his hand to help Deån to his feet. "Coffee?"

 

Deån allowed himself be pulled to his feet - jogging did not help his arms, apparently, 'cause Deån was heavy - before following Castiel through to the kitchen.

 

"Do you have much left to do?" Deån asked as he accepted a mug that Castiel then filled from the pot.

 

Castiel looked around the arch of the kitchen doorway and through into the living room. There were only a few papers left. Eh, he could procrastinate them to talk with Deån for a bit. After all, he was the only friend that wasn't a colleague, a family member, or asking about his sex life.  _Note to self_ , Cas thought.  _Get more friends, get better/less nosy friends._ __

"Not really. How about you? Are you here because you have free time or because you're hiding from your brother?" Cas poured his own coffee as he asked. More than once the god had shimmered into existence on the sofa with a tired smile, on the run from his brother for reasons varying between 'I don't like salad nor can he force me to eat it' and 'there's only so many things I can sign and validate in a day before I hate life'.

 

"I would never take advantage of your hospitality in such a way." Deån acted scandalized and placed a hand over his heart but he had a glint in his eye. "Okay, I'm not taking such advantage  _today_." he caved when Castiel raised both his eyebrows.

 

"So then,  _Medurgal-vændr'x_ , why are you here?"

 

Deån barked a laugh. "'Old One'? Really? Please, my parents can keep that title. I prefer  _Paraph'n o'med Urgöns_."

"'Being of Light', how poetic," Castiel commented. "But you're avoiding the question, why are you here?"

 

Deån seemed to blush as he looked down at his leather boots. "Well, it's just that the Yule celebration of the Solstice is coming and, I was just thinking, would you want to come?"

 

Castiel didn't register the request for a moment and, when he did, he blurted "What?"

 

The god looked up. "Would you like to come to  _Druxmædor_ for the Solstice?" He asked simply.

 

"I could do that?" Cas asked, eyes wide and not caring if the awe and excitement could be heard in his voice.

 

"Of course, mortals have been to our realm many times. So, would you like to?"

 

Castiel wanted to jump up and down, maybe scream a little but he could remain composed. His voice was higher, however, when he next spoke. "Of  _course_ I'd like to! I mean, yeah, it'll be interesting. Can I take notes? Pictures?"

 

Deån was grinning widely now. "Notes; sure, pictures; maybe only a few, the Souls tend to be wary about anything that comes from the mortal realm."

 

The blue eyed man stopped his mental planning for a second. "'Souls'?"

 

The god nodded. "Yes, those who have pledged themselves in death to the gods or those who can, and must, be redeemed so they can reach Paradise."

 

Castiel nodded. "Of course. So, when is it? Is it the same day as the solstice here or...?"

 

Deån nodded. "Yes, the pyre itself will be on the 21st of your last month of the year but, I suppose, if you wanted to, you could come through earlier? Just to get comfortable and meet everyone, I mean."

 

Castiel had never envisioned that Deån - head of the  _Druxinian_ religion and strongest of the third tier gods - could ever seem embarrassed or hesitant yet there they were, standing in Castiel's kitchen while the sky outside promised snow, with Deån blushing beneath his freckles and looking at Cas from beneath his lashes.

 

"I'd love to, Deån, honestly. Tell me when you want to travel and I'll come with you." The god smiled at that, walking over and hugging Castiel tightly. In fact, he was pretty sure that some of his bones creaked under the strain of the larger man's embrace.

 

"It'll be fantastic, Cas!" Deån beamed at him, holding him at arm's length. "We have the pyre and there's a feast and much drinking and feasting. You won't regret this, I assure you."

 

"I'm sure I won't. So, when will I travel to  _Druxmædor_? And how?"

 

Deån leant against the counter next to Castiel but kept an arm around the mortal's shoulders. "Well, you'll need to meet everyone before the actual celebration so maybe the 19th? When does your hall of education close for Yuletide?"

 

"'Hall of-'? Do you mean the university?" 

 

Deån nodded.

 

"Well, my course finishes two weeks before Christmas and starts back again two weeks after-"

 

"Could you spend that entire month?" Deån looked so hopeful, his eyes big and bright like a child staring through the window of a candy store.

 

"No doubt I'll have work to mark from at least three of my classes," Castiel sighed, trying to remember which classes had large deadlines before winter break. "I could probably spend two weeks, at least it's better than nothing." He smiled at the god in hopes of cheering him up after his face fell but Deån was already grinning from ear to ear again.

 

"Then those two weeks you will spend in  _Druxmædor_ and celebrate with us." the god nodded.

 

"So that leaves me..." Castiel closed his eyes and visualized a calender in his head. "About three and a half weeks to pack." His eyes shot open. "Oh wow, that's really close. Do I need to bring an offering or something?" 

 

Deån shook his head. "I'll be performing the ceremony so you can give me an offering if you  _really_ want to..." the god trailed off with a shit-eating grin, arm still around Cas' shoulders.

 

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure you'll be getting plenty of offerings."

 

Deån's smirk dropped and he suddenly looked weary. "Tell me about it. And they don't expect me to take a bite and then move on, oh no, I have to eat the entire thing or drink the entire bottle and if Old Vänligtar brings me burnt bread again I might cry." Deån turned to Cas with pleading eyes as if he could do something about it. "I mean, she's nice but she really can't bake."

Cas resisted the urge to laugh. "You'll survive." He patted the god's chest (no, he did  _not_ notice how firm the god felt beneath his tunic) and refilled his mug from the still-warm pot.

 

"Two thousand years of burnt bread, Cas!" Deån cried, following the shorter man into the living room where he sat on the opposite side of the couch to Cas, Dimitri still curled up in the middle where Cas had left him.

 

"It can only be as bad as Ms Kurtis' marzipan each year at the church fate when I was little." the professor almost shuddered at the memory of the bitter lumps he used to have to smile while eating.

 

Deån hummed. "I make good marzipan, you'll have to try it some time."

 

Cas arched an eyebrow. "You can make marzipan?"

 

Deån nodded. "My cooking skills are quite commendable; after all, food has always been a key aspect of family life, from baking together or eating together, it's always been within my circle of power."

  
The other man nodded slowly. "I knew mealtimes were part of your protection, hence why you're the one who is prayed to before eating, but I never thought that you would actually bake yourself."

 

Deån shrugged. "It always came in helpful, even before I chose my circle of power; often I could seek shelter in a village if I could pay my way, sometimes I could cook as payment for a place to sleep."

 

Cas' fingers itched to grab a notebook and take notes, after all not much was written about the finer details of the younger years of the gods, mainly it was stories of how Djohann had taken his sons from  _Druxmædorv_ when he believed it was no longer safe and how the young gods had roamed the 'wild north' when their father left as neither had enough power to return to their realm. After those were tales of beasts they managed to overcome whilst on the road between nameless towns or of mortals who worshipped the second tier gods and how they helped Deån and Sam before even knowing who they really were. "How did they not know you were gods? I mean, between your eyes and tattoos?"

 

"Well, my markings did not appear until my powers became completely active, when I became a fully fledged god. As for my eyes, humans have always seen what they want to see and these did not see me for who I was." Deån became distracted then, spotting the TV remote on the arm of the sofa, he pointed to it almost hesitantly. "May I?"

  
Cas nodded, still mulling over the new information about Deån's past. "Yeah, sure."

 

The god flicked on the TV with a small smile, changing the channel until he found-

  
Castiel almost rolled his eyes. Two months ago, the god had become completely enamoured with  _Doctor Sexy MD_ and all of its stupid storylines. Whenever Cas asked the god claimed that it was 'giving him an insight into modern pop culture'. The blue eyed man thought that was pure BS but left the god to it.     

 

 

Shaking his head slightly, but smiling none the less, Castiel pulled the last of the essays towards himself and set about finishing his marking, thinking that if he could make good time on these he could even write-up his lesson plans and send them to his new TA who was coming in next week.

 

He could get used to this.

 

~x~x~x~

 

It was two weeks before Castiel was to go to  _Druxmædor_ and he still had no idea what he was going to do for an offering. 

 

He definitely wanted to do  _something_ but the problem was  _what_. Pouring over the stories about Deån had revealed little insight into the god's food preferences; from what Cas could see,   _all_ kinds of food were acceptable to the god but that narrowed down what he should make by exactly nothing.

  
Sitting on the floor of the kitchen with recipe books stacked around him was doing little to help him decide; he'd always been better with desserts but that  _still_ didn't help - would Deån want a devil's chocolate cake or egg custard tarts? Red velvet cupcakes or profiteroles? Not to mention keeping it fresh, he'd have to make it while there, probably, but then what if they didn't have what he needed and just  _ugh!_  


 

 

Castiel hated everything.

 

He eyed his phone where it sat on top of a pile of cook books. He could ask his sister. Granted, she'd probably suggest chocolate cake a million times but that was because of her weird fetish.

 

Sighing, Cas grabbed his phone and quickly dialled Anna's number. She picked up on the third ring with "You're calling  _me_? And on a Saturday no less?"

 

"I need help." Cas whined, there was no point denying it.

 

He could  _feel_ Anna raising her eyebrows. "You dont sound in pain, or in danger, so what's up?"

 

"I need to bake something and I don't know what to bake."

 

There was shuffling and Cas was pretty sure it sounded like Anna had flopped down onto her sofa. "I'm gonna need deets, Cassie: what's it for? When? Who?"

 

Deciding to just bite the bullet, Cas said "I'm going to Sweden over Christmas to see Deån."

 

"You're doing  _what??!_ "

 

The professor grimaced and held the phone away from his ear for a second. "I know, I know. It's short notice, I'm sorry but I got the opportunity and, well- but are you going to be okay? I know we normally spend Christmas together and-"

 

"Forget that, Cas, we have more important things to discuss like are you going to have to snuggle with your new man for body heat if it gets cold?"

  
"Anna!" Cas squawked, face burning.

 

 

"Whaaaat? These are serious questions! Next one: whatever you make, are you planning on eating it off his tanned chest 'cause, if so, I suggest something with cream-"

 

"  _Anna!_ "

 

"  _Carpe diem_ , Cas! Or  _carpe natem_ as I think you should-"

 

Castiel groaned. "Please, Anna, I just need help. It needs to be something I can make while I'm there, preferably, and it needs to be something he'll like."

 

"Hmm... Chocolate cake? It's easy and  _everyone_ likes choco-"

 

"  _No_ , Anna, not everyone has an obsession with  chocolate cake."

 

Anna blew a raspberry down the phone. "Whatever, spoil sport. Um... Okay, what about a pie? It's easy and I've never met anyone who doesn't like pie."

 

That was an idea. "I do make a good pie." Cas hummed, grabbing one of the cook books and looking for a good pie recipe. "Oh, but what flavour?" God, more decisions! 

 

"Apple is always a safe bet but cherry is stickier, good for licking off fingers an-"

 

"Anna..." Cas growled down the phone and was met by a weary sigh.

 

"I'm trying to  _help_ , Cas! You've gotta take the opportunity and if that involves seduction through food then so be it!"

 

He wanted to tell Anna to lay off off because there was literally no chance of anything ever happening. The way Castiel saw it, it was that it was rare for gods to consort with humans and even if Castiel was one of the rare occasions, there was the small matter of Deån's lost Bonded. So really, there was no hope. Not that Castiel had been hoping for something anyway. 

 

"You're not helping, though, Anna. He's, uh, already seeing someone else, sort of."

 

"Come again?"

 

"Well, he's pursuing someone anyway."

 

"Oh, well then, you'll just have to show him what he's missing."

 

"Goodbye, Anna." He went to hang up but his sister interrupted him.

 

"Wait! Wait wait wait! I'm sorry, Cas, its just that... I just want you to be happy, you know that, and you hardly ever go out other thank work. I just worry."

 

"I know you do, Anna, but please let me have  _some_ privacy?"

 

He could sense Anna's small smile. "Of course, Cas. Do you want me to have Dimitri while you're away?"

 

Cas hadn't even thought about that. Suddenly, deciding to do something only a month in advance seemed like a horrible idea. "If you wouldn't mind."

 

"Nah, it's fine. Me and Dim will have a great Christmas, be sure to take pictures for me."

 

"I will. And... thank you."

 

"What're siblings for? I'd better go anyway, I'll leave you to your recipes."

 

Castiel  smiled a little. "I'll test whatever I choose to make on you first. See you soon, Anna." He hung up and set his phone down next to him.

 

So. Pie. Apple. Ooh, maybe spiced apple. That was decently festive.

 

~x~x~x~

 

One week to go and Castiel had packed and re-packed a dozen times. 

 

It was the start of Christmas break and he was stressed, not from the deadlines and projects he had been given (of which there were many, all looming at him from where they sat on the armchair in the living room) but because of his visit.

 

He'd practiced the pie a million times, and then once more for good luck, and he was pretty sure he could make the dessert with his eyes closed. Yet, in the back of his mind, doubt still remained. What if it wasn't enough of an offering? What if Deån didn't like it? What if it wasn't the right kind of offering? What if what if what if-

 

Frankly, it was driving Castiel nuts.

 

He was certain he'd started pacing a groove in the floor from trying to relieve tension through pacing, even Dimitri was looking at him funny.

 

He religiously crossed out the days on his calendar until the day he'd leave with Deån, putting a red line through each day was a ritual he did each night and it both soothed him and agitated him further.

 

He really shouldn't be so worked up.

 

Even methodically marking the coursework handed to him, and alphabetically organised by the new TA (Brady, Castiel had learnt he was called) didn't help to settle his nerves.

 

He'd say he needed a vacation but that was, technically, causing the stress.

 

~x~x~x~

 

The 18th both came too quickly and seemed to take an age to arrive.

 

Castiel was packed, for  _sure_  this time, had his recipe tucked away  in his bag, and had packed extra winter clothes because the winters in  _Druxmædor_  apparently couldn't get any colder.

 

Dimitri was with Anna, who had suggested chocolate cake and cream one last time, and everything was sorted. That's what Castiel told himself as he tried to get to sleep, that is.

 

He was nervous, yes, but also excited and thrilled and scared and- there were no words really. How long had it been since a mortal had seen what he was going to? A hundred years? A thousand? Who even knew any more.

 

It was an honour for Deån to ask him in the first place so surely Deån trusted him, but would the others? Would they take to him as warmly as Deån had?

 

Castiel had so many questions, all of which would probably be answered within the next day or so.

 

He flipped his pillow to the cool side and closed his eyes with determination, he would sleep, he would, he needed to.

 

~x~x~x~

 

Morning dawned crisp and foggy, the pale winter sunlight barely lighting the clouds in any way.

 

This was not the sight that greeted Cas upon waking, however, nor was he greeted by his curtains blocking this view or the pillow he had his face smushed against. No, he woke to Deån standing over him grinning.

 

"Good morning, Castiel! It's the day!"

 

Castiel wasn't going to lie; he screamed. The sight of the god jumping back made the noise die off but it still happened.

 

"My apologies, I did not mean to frighten you." Deån sounded sheepish as he sat at the bottom of the bed.

 

Cas panted a little, feeling his heart thunder in his chest. "Yeah, don't worry about it, I'll be fine."

 

Once he was up he made quick work of getting ready, practically inhaling his breakfast, and grabbing the duffle he had decided to take with him.

 

After so much waiting he was ready to go. Or that's what he was telling himself. There wasn't really a way out of it now even if he wanted to find one.

 

Deån looked over him curiously; bundled in two jumpers and a padded coat, Castiel was sure he looked ridiculous but he'd be damned if he froze to death.

 

"Ready?"

 

"As I'll ever be."

 

Deån placed his hands on Castiel's waist before slowly bringing him closer, the bag held fast between them.

 

Despite mentally preparing himself, the world stretching and narrowing as they moved to  _Druxmædor_ still made Castiel feel a little sick. Colours drained and bloomed before his eyes as he was forced between dimensions, Deån's arms the only thing he knew was actually real.

 

The ground met them with a staggering jolt that almost sent Cas flying had the god not held on to him.

 

"Welcome to  _Druxmædor_ ," Deån said quietly in the space between them. Part of Castiel didn't want to look away from Deån's eyes and the smattering of freckles below them but his curiosity won out and he turned to his left to see a circle of runes surrounding them, the carved stones reaching higher than the ones he had first met Deån at and more intricately designed.

 

Eight stones surrounded them, the ground inside the circle free of snow unlike beyond them and instead bearing vibrant grass as if it was actually the middle of summer. 

 

Beyond the circle, mountains arched up on almost every side, giving the impression that the stones were at the bottom of a broken bowl, jagged and splintered fingers reaching up around it to frame the pale blue sky.

 

To the north was a gap in the mountains, possibly a causeway leading to the castle and town itself.

 

"Come on," Deån pulled on Cas' sleeve a little as he started forward to where a path had been cleared in the knee-deep snow that lead up the slight bank to the opening. "It won't take much to reach the castle, and oh what a sight it is this time of year." Deån said as he strode ahead, Castiel hurrying to keep up, bag held in front of him. "I wish I could have taken you straight into the palace but it is easier to travel to actual stone circles than freely," he looked over his shoulder, grinning, as he pushed to the top of the hill. "And really, the view is also better from here."

 

Castiel stood next to Deån and looked down into the valley below. He really had to agree.

 

Hearing about  _Druxmædor_ and seeing it were two completely different things. 

 

The fortress was a foreboding keep; a rather low main building with five larger turrets that rose above the main complex, all made from grey stone. 

 

 

From the mountain pass, they could see the forests stretching to the left and down the hill from the castle and beyond. The harsh winter had ripped the leaves from the tall trees leaving only skeletal arms stretching to the pale sky from the pure white skin of snow over the ground below them.

 

A lake stretched in front of the castle before curling around to the right, with the forest lining its banks, enclosing a reflection of the sky in the frozen mirror.

 

Beyond even that, the land sloped downwards again into a further valley with still larger mountain on the other side. Woods and fields fought for land across the patchwork hills and streams could be seen glittering like silver crisscrossing the valley.

 

 

Deån breathed deeply beside him. "Ah, it's good to be home."

 

"Your home is... impressive."

 

"It's a lot warmer on the inside, too, trust me. Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, I know, I'm the literal worst for updating - I have no excuse other than 'Star Wars took over my life'
> 
> as usual:  
> verse created by Diminuel  
> beta'd be infinitejellybean  
> shout at me on tumblr at reluctantly-awesome


End file.
